Sunshine's Blog

It comes still,
not loud like before,
not crashing through the walls
of your body.

Just a gathering—
a tightening in the chest,
a small ache
that says
something is here.

You don’t run.

You don’t name it into a story.

You let it be
what it is—
a wave remembering
how to move.

There is a moment,
a held breath,
where the body wonders
if this will be the old way again—
the staying,
the drowning,
the becoming.

But something is different now.

You are here.

And the feeling,
finding no resistance,
no need to root itself
into your bones,

loosens.

Softens.

Passes through
like weather
that no longer needs
to become climate.

You remain.

Not untouched—
but unclaimed.