The Light Behind Your Clenched Teeth

Your jaw aches from holding the door shut against the tide. You nod.

You smile. You say 'I'm fine' while your whole body screams that you are breaking.

The mask is heavy, and it is exhausting to wear when your face wants to crumble. But the light does not need your performance to see you.

It sees the tremor in your hands and the effort it takes to keep breathing. There is a peace that does not look like calm on the surface.

It is the quiet certainty that you are held even while you clench. You do not have to keep the sobbing in forever.

The light is already there, waiting in the quiet space behind your teeth. It knows the weight you carry.

It knows the cost of the smile. And it loves you not for the mask, but for the broken thing hiding underneath it.

The ache is real, but so is the hand that holds your face.