The Light In Her Shadow

She woke with a weight she couldn’t explain,

A fog in her chest, a thunder of pain.

The mirror just echoed what she couldn’t see

A girl who was drowning, pretending to be.

Her room was a cage, her bed was a tomb,

She lived in the silence, she slept in the gloom.

The texts went unread, the calls went ignored,

She smiled in emojis, but inside she warred.

She scrolled through her feed, where joy wore a mask,

Comparing her soul to a filtered flask.

Her friends were all glowing, their lives full of light,

While she battled demons alone every night.

She’d whisper, “I’m fine,” when asked how she felt,

But truth was a blade she kept on her belt.

She’d cut through the hours with Netflix and snacks,

While panic attacks crept in through the cracks.

Her journal was filled with scribbles and cries,

Dark poetry inked with tear-stained goodbyes.

She’d write of a girl who once dreamed of the stars,

Now counting her flaws like tally-marked scars.

She missed who she was before life got loud,

Before she was lost in the weight of the crowd.

Before heartbreak shattered her trust into dust,

And love turned to rust and promises bust.

She missed her own laughter, her sparkle, her glow,

But depression’s grip doesn’t let go slow.

It whispers, “You’re worthless,” in voices so sly,

It teaches the broken how easy to lie.

Then one night, alone, with mascara streaked,

She whispered a prayer, though her faith felt weak.

Not to a name, not to a creed,

But to something beyond her desperate need.

She said, “If there’s light, then come find me here,

I’m tired of drowning, I’m tired of fear.”

And silence replied with a warmth in her chest,

A flicker of hope she hadn’t addressed.

She dreamt of a figure, not cloaked in a robe,

But wrapped in a glow that pierced through her globe.

No sermons, no rules, no judgment or shame,

Just presence that whispered, “You’re more than your name.”

She woke with a tear, but it wasn’t of pain,

It watered the soil where healing would reign.

She opened her blinds, let sunlight pour in,

And felt something shift deep under her skin.

She walked to the mirror, still fragile, still sore,

But saw not a ghost she saw something more.

A girl with a story, a soul that had bled,

But still had a heartbeat, still wasn’t dead.

She started to write, not of endings but starts,

Of battles she’d fought and the mending of parts.

She posted her truth, and strangers replied,

“I feel this,” “I’ve been there,” “You helped me not hide.”

She found in her pain a purpose to share,

A voice for the voiceless, a breath of fresh air.

She spoke of the Light that met her in dark,

Not preaching, just reaching with love as the spark.

She danced in her kitchen, she sang in the rain,

She laughed at the echo of yesterday’s pain.

She still had her moments, her valleys and dips,

But now she had courage tattooed on her lips.

She met others walking the road she once knew,

And offered them hope like morning dew.

Not with a doctrine, not with a rule,

But with empathy’s fire and kindness as fuel.

She said, “There’s a Light, it’s quiet and kind,

It doesn’t demand, it simply reminds.

It found me when I was too lost to be found,

It lifted me up from six feet underground.”

Now she wears joy like a second skin,

Not perfect, but present, alive from within.

She thanks the Light that answered her cry,

That taught her to live, not just survive.

So if you’re that girl with mascara tears,

Who’s tired of faking and drowning in fears

Know this: the Light doesn’t wait for the brave,

It walks through the shadows, it enters the cave.

It’s not in a building, a book, or a name,

It’s love in its purest, unspoken flame.

It’s the whisper that says, “You’re not alone,”

It’s the warmth in your chest when you’re chilled to the bone.

She’s living proof that healing is real,

That broken can blossom, that numbness can feel.

That even in darkness, a flicker can grow

And change your whole story with one gentle glow.