This poem is a reminder that traumatic experiences and life phases we deal with can be invisible and seem unreal, and even unworthy. We can drag them around with us like a ball and chain and feel there is absolutely nothing to be done about them. We can even un-know ourselves for a time.

I love these lines so much:

"when I came out of it, when I turned
all the colors and wore them in my skin
my neighbor introduced herself to me"

Sometimes it's only after we find a way out of those mired, unhappy, or traumatic times that we look back and see who we were and get a bit of perspective on how hard it was. It really can be like re-introducing yourself to yourself, and to others.

I wrote a post early in my days on Steemit, called "Four funerals and a wedding," because in a very short time a lot of big things were happening all at once. Writing about it helped me to make sense of it all. It was very grounding. I have re-read that post a few times since then. It was only four months ago, and yet it feels like forever, and like I was someone else for a little while.

The image of the woman behind the curtain really resonates with me.