✨revelation✨
They do not simply hang in frames or glow on screens— they carve themselves into the mind like initials in an old oak, etched so deep the bark grows around them, yet never swallows them whole.
A photo does not flinch. It does not backpedal or swear on its mother’s grave. It does not dress itself up in excuses. It simply stares back—quiet, undeniable, like a preacher’s wife catching you at the liquor store on Sunday morning.
And when it is the picture you prayed you would never see— it wounds the heart in a way no blade could manage, cutting deep, carving its way into chambers that once held hope like a living thing.
But the waters of truth always follow the image. They open the eyes wide— pouring out like tears from a soul that begged God for a different ending.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but when that picture shatters your heart into a thousand pieces, it forces you to see things as they were all along— not as you dreamed them to be.
Those caverns of hurt become winding rivers. And as the tears flow, they begin to fill the hollow spaces until the heart, heavy with truth, finds its weight shifting toward freedom.
Because tears are holy water when they fall from an awakened soul. They wash away the cobweb lies, they rinse the rust from your faith, they carve new channels for grace to run through.
Liars will always lie— bless their black little hearts— but the truth will always outshine them. And when you have cried it clean, you will see the picture for what it really is: not the proof of what you lost, but the marker of where you began to heal.
And to the liar— she sees you now, clear as a cypress silhouette at sunset. No shadow can cover what the light has already found. Every pixel, every line, every glance caught in that frame is a truth you can never rewrite.
It will sit in her memory like a stone in still water quiet, heavy, unmoving. Not to haunt her, but to remind her. Liars will always lie. But she will always remember.