Welcome.
If you're feeling a little weary from carrying too much,
You're not alone.
This spoken word piece is named Between the Cracks You Planted Light.
You don't have to fix anything right now.
You don't even have to try.
Just breathe.
Let these words wash over you.
You are not broken.
You are becoming.
Let's begin.
We told you you're falling apart.
But you weren't.
You were falling into a deeper place.
A quieter place where the noise couldn't follow and the old masks slipped away like bark in the spring.
You weren't breaking.
You were making room.
Room for breath.
Room for beauty.
Room for something holy that doesn't need to be explained.
The cracks came fast,
Didn't they?
Noise outside.
Storms within.
Days you dissolved like salt in the rain.
And nights you held yourself like a mother holds a child.
But here's the miracle.
You found a place between the cracks.
Not above them.
Not beneath them.
Between.
That's where you began to plant tiny seeds of remembering.
Of warm.
Of I am still here.
You planted stillness.
You planted truth.
You planted velvet boundaries and the sound of your own name said gently.
And oh,
You planted light.
Not the loud kind.
Not the kind that dazzles or demands.
But the kind that glows quietly under your ribs.
The kind that returns when you stop apologizing for needing rest.
The kind that flickers back when you choose yourself without permission.
You weren't withdrawing.
You were weaving.
A new life.
One golden thread at a time.
Sea blue threads.
Sun gold threads.
Threads only you could see.
And only you could hold.
Some days you still cry.
But even then,
You cry into soil that knows what to do with tears.
The roots drink and the light keeps blooming.
So know you are not broken.
You are becoming.
Between the cracks,
You planted light.
And dear one,
It is growing and glowing.
