I am a woman,

whose lines are not always straight!

Even when they’re just so,

they don’t always intersect the way

good lines should.

Sometimes they’re erased, redrawn, and smudged messy.

Sometimes they’re perpendicular.

Sometimes they are stretched outside the boundaries of expectation, assumption, or even simple obligation.

Sometimes I think myself void of space to draw good bolded lines.

Sometimes I think what life would be without lines!

A good part of me knows that lines like borders keep good things in and bad things out!

Or is it the reverse?

I am a woman…