Please Day 7, when the stitches got infected; a threshold between life and decay. This project revisits the August 4 explosion in Beirut through the lens of wounds and the fragile, often toxic nature of healing. It reflects on survivors who were hastily stitched (or stapled) under critical conditions, drawing a parallel between physical stitching and the delicate emotional narratives woven to make sense of trauma. Using watercolor, pig skin, needles, and thread, the work recreates wounds that fester into abstract forms, meditations on unattended trauma, both physical and psychological. In this process, the act of suturing shifts from a medical necessity to a meditative practice. The needle that once urgently held flesh together becomes a tool for contemplation and expression. Each stitch, whether on skin or paper, becomes a repetitive gesture that bridges body and psyche, transforming pain into presence and trauma into visual language. By the seventh day, all stitches became infected, suggesting that life offers no guarantees of safety and that trauma, when left untreated, continues to spread beneath the surface. The project reveals a deeper reflection on feeling truly alive only in moments of shock or danger, when the amygdala awakens in response to threat. Through stitching and unraveling, it becomes a cathartic act of attending to what has never fully healed.