The Light Within. The Light Without.

Morning crept in.

Slow and silent.

In my chest—the sun.

Breaths calm.

Eyes bright.

I stepped into the light.

Wrapped in linen and ache.

A morning for the mourning.

Rising sun to my thoughts.

The night burned away.

And with it—

the name I wouldn’t speak.

The ache I kept folded

in the corners of my body.

I didn’t weep.

Only breathed.

And let the light fill

what was left.