children cannot carry the burden of belief and the burden of proof

The Morning Hues, January 4th 2026

a/n: written based off the january journal prompt 1: what part of me is quietly asking to begin again

dear reader,

there are days that i feel a faint yearning deep within the well of myself.

it’s not strong enough to be a voice, a ghost of a whisper, but yet it is strong enough that i know that it is there. incessantly it tugs at me, wrapping me up in silk and sadness.

today i followed that yearning and dove deep into parts of me that i had not truly visited in years. i followed it through pink lace, and piles of duplo blocks until i met it at a grave stone.

a buried truth. and when i approached it, i first thought that i had to have arrived at the wrong place. what could have died within me that was still able to call to me. but then, i could see the red string which connected me to it.