I am the Illustrated Woman with my byways comprised of connective scar tissue, a mapping of a life lived. I can package well enough, but the underneath of me, what I hide so well, that’s the map I speak of. It’s only tissue but it tells the tale of what I am without wordy language, and it speaks louder than I do.
I wish my body told a tale that I was proud of, but it doesn’t. So I will tell my tale with a humor that I only in the last few years have found buried deep. This humor, this admittedly dark humor is how I will heal the deeper scar tissue. The surface of me will only deepen in appearance, which I will learn to live with, but I can retrace my byways and find a way to connect to others.
So I declare me a storyteller here and now with the intent of healing the shadows I/we all have within us. The neglected aspects that without love and acknowledgement fester into entity like beings only wanting our attention.
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