“After the Numb”

It begins with a tremor—a crack in the cocoon where stillness once reigned. The numbness was a quiet prison, but now, the flood comes.

Colors burst and bleed, raw and unruly, pouring through every wound, every scar. The agony and the ecstasy arrive hand in hand, indistinguishable at first.

You feel it all.

The ache of old ghosts, the chorus of forgotten joys. Pain is not the enemy, but a teacher; sorrow is not a curse, but a truth. It is chaos, yes—but it is life.

And as the numbness fades, something stirs within—a fragile, feral hope that maybe this storm is what it means to be whole.