New poems from Linda M. Crate “all i wanted is to be loved” “i’ve outrgrown you” and more

https://amzn.to/37TKn6G

all i wanted was to be loved

i felt loved
until one day you
decided you didn't like me,
and i don't know why
you just chose to dislike me
one day or what i did wrong;
but you never cared for
me again because you stopped
being nice—
& you were only concerned
with how i made you feel and your feelings,
and you didn't feel bad for any of the
cruel and rude things you said;
unless i couldn't hold back the tears
as i so often did 
because you said i was too sensitive—
everyone says you're a good man,
but you weren't always good to me;
it wasn't always awful until you decided 
to make your pain a weapon and launch it through
my heart—
you refused to let me have any peace
or privacy and all i wanted was a place where
i could thrive and grow,
all i wanted was to be loved;
but instead of getting a father when my mother
married you 
all i received was a monster who wanted to
control me and break my spirit with his wounds.

i've outgrown you

you are kind now
like you were when you
first married my mother,
acting as if you can sweep all
of your crappy past behavior
under the rug just because i'm
an adult and no longer live
in your home;
but i remember all your nastiness
and how you cried once because
my mother wouldn't let you punish me—
you never let me get away with
anything,
never celebrated my accomplishments,
and never went to any of my graduations;
but i see you let my sister get away
with everything,
celebrate her achievements,
and go to all of her graduations
the favoritism is real and real apparent—
flesh and blood means more to you
than your step daughter,
but it's cool;
i've learned to love myself
don't need the father that never loved me
no longer want nor require your validation
like i did when i was a girl
because i've outgrown you.

i don't accept your apology

i don't even remember how
our friendship started
any longer,
but it was probably always
toxic;
didn't realize you were a narcissist
until we were both adults—
for so many years 
i watered dead plants waiting
for you to care about me,
but one day i began to realize
you were using me for your own gain;
didn't care about me except for 
what you could get from me
always tore me down from my dreams
and demanded more of my time—
so i walked away from our
garden of friendship
because i realized i deserved peace,
and i will not feel guilty about it;
don't owe anyone an explanation and if they
ask i will just say we grew apart—
but you were part of the reason i never felt
good enough no matter how hard i tried because
i wanted to be a perfect friend,
and you took me for granted until i left;
but then you wouldn't respect boundaries 
so i blocked you & then you badgered and bothered my family
until even my mother and sister resented you too—
so if you're reading this,
i am not sorry;
and i don't accept your apology.


done poisoning myself

so many years
i felt like 
the snake whose neck
you snapped when you threw him,

and i begged you not to;
i just placed that little garden snake
back in the grass but you had to kill him—

he was just trying to live his best life,
but you couldn't stand the sight of him;

& still i remained your friend

even if in that moment i wanted to throw
you into the sun—

i guess i should've listened to my instincts
because you turned out to be a bad friend
always taking more than you were willing
to give,
never remembering my birthday,
always wanting free books once i started
getting published,
it was always about you even when it was about me;

so i decided one day i was taking my peace back
and making you a part of my past—

i was done poisoning myself with your toxicity.


let people find their happiness

they say
worldly things
don't matter,
but they do;

i still have the last letter
my uncle sent me
before he died and the last gift
he ever got me for christmas—

couldn't fight off his demons,
so he took his own life;
and i miss him

every moody and gray day
i think of him and the shade 
his blue eyes
sometimes shifted to—

don't tell people the things they 
cling to don't matter,
sometimes the weight of the world
is dense;

what you see is trash is a treasure that
holds them together like glue—

unless they're hoarding things they don't use,
what is it to you if someone has a box full
of old letters or too many books spilling over
their bookcase or collect things that remind them
of the people they love or those they miss?

let people find their happiness where they can.


Bio: Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has seven published chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014), If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016), My Wings Were Made to Fly (Flutter Press, September 2017),  splintered with terror (Scars Publications, January 2018), More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019), and the samurai (Yellow Arrowing Publishing, October 2020), and three micro-chapbooks Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018), moon mother (Origami Poems Project, March 2020), and & so i believe (Origami Poems Project, April 2021). She is also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018). She also has three full-length poetry collections, the latest being You Will Not Control Me (Cyberwit, March 2021).






By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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