After a storm there are puddles left.
After a fire there are ashes left.
After SIV there are scars left.
How do you deal with them?
Do you hide them?
Do you wear them fiercely as warrior marks? Not caring who sees them?
Do you make them yours?
...”Oh I took part in a Sun Dance ceremony during my native days”
Do you make them others?
...”Oh I lived in Africa and was scarred to make my pale skin strong”
Do you lie?
...”Oh it was a car accident a few years ago”
Do you tell a partial truth?
...”Oh it happened so long ago I don’t remember”
Do you tell the whole truth?
...”Oh I’m a self-mutilator”
How do you decide who gets to know and who needs to stay in the dark?
Do you have days when you don’t see them? And days when that is all you see?
Do you have days they shame you? And days they empower you?
Do you have the perfect lie to tell children?
...”Oh when I was a little girl, no one told me not to play with matches”
Do you ever look at them as if they were a puzzle and think:
...”Oh if I just fill in this space here, it will all make sense”
Do you?
I do.
P.R.