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  • Writer's pictureHelen Cottee

Drawing Lines

I was taught intolerance

But was told it was love.

I was taught exclusion

But its package had

‘holiness’ splashed in colour

And bold lettering.

I learned the rules well enough

That they handed me a pen

And allowed me to be part of the ones

Who drew the lines

Between this and that,

In and out,

Good and bad,

Right and wrong.

I drew well for a while

Until real people with real lives

Messed with the rules

And blurred the lines.

And then I didn’t know what to do

So I took my pen

And looped them in

Under the overarching rule that

Love is indeed the final word.

So they took away my pen

And used it to loop me out.

And so the second time

I learned intolerance

I was told it was love

And it broke my heart.

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