The Light Is Already in the Room

You turned the lock. You checked the handle.

The house is quiet, but the terror inside your chest is loud. It feels like the door sealed you in with yourself, and yourself is the one place you cannot escape.

The light knows this specific kind of trapped feeling. It entered the garden before the end and said, 'My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.' It did not pretend the darkness wasn't terrifying.

It fell on its face. And in that same breath, it asked for the cup to pass.

The light does not demand that you feel safe just because the bolt is thrown. It sits with you in the unsafety.

It does not fix the shaking. It simply stays.

You are not alone in the room because the light is in the room. The lock keeps the world out.

It cannot keep the light from being already there.