Sometimes I just don’t realize the sheerness of the stories I wear.

How they seem to protect me and at the same time be filled with holes.

I wear them to create a sense of separateness, of control, and the ability to shield myself from others.

I can never truly hide from that connection. A part of me will always remain exposed.

Perhaps a part of me pokes out beyond the edge hoping to be seen so that I can come out from under the stories.

When the veil of story is pulled back authentic, vulnerable, unfiltered connectedness can begin.