What I am (unfinished draft)

 I am flexible. I can fit in your box, but those are your four walls, not mine.

I am imperfectly designed. Daughter. Mother. Wife. I’m a maniac with a knife

…in my back. And you twist.

I am a player. I play by every rule, but you keep moving the goal line a foot closer to it was

never going to happen anyway.

I am historically ill-defined. I don’t fit your narrative, but I won’t be revised. I came correct.

And what I am now is free.

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