Category: Linda M Crate

i sit here in obscurity

goodbyes have always been difficult
for me,
don't really understand the necessity
of closing a door when we're supposed to
be close;

i guess i am the ivy wrapped 
around an abandoned building
wondering why no one ever comes
to visit anymore—

i am the last flower of spring 
to bloom that no one notices because
summer is on it's way,

i am the moon obscured by clouds
that no one notices at night;

but i have so much magic and love and 
laughter and gifts and tenderness and dreams
and mercy to give the world and those
that would take a chance to love me that i cannot
understand why i sit here in obscurity.

Bio: Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer. Her works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of ten poetry chapbooks, the latest being: Hecate’s Child (Alien Buddha Publishing, November 2021). She’s also the author of the novella Mates (Alien Buddha Publishing, March 2022). She has three micro-poetry collections out:  Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018), moon mother (Origami Poems Project, March 2020.), and & so i believe (Origami Poems Project, April 2021). She has published four full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020), The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020), Mythology of My Bones (Cyberwit, August 2020), and you will not control me (Cyberwit, March 2021).

photo by Andrea Tummons (Unsplash)

once we were sisters

i remember
when you said
i was your favorite,
now you're no 
longer in my life;
i remember sitting in your
car my hair dancing 
wild in the wind and our laughter
mingling together with sunsets and the stars—
i have always wondered if you think
of me,
because once we were sisters
now we're just ghosts;
i don't understand why we bury the 
living
when we're both still alive—
some people are so okay with letting me go,
but i am never okay with losing people;
always makes me feel as if i have failed
sometimes they say people
aren't forever
but i wonder if they ever tried to hold onto
friendships and love instead of their egos—
some people may be toxic,
but some people are just learning how
to function through their pain;
and in your absence i find that i trust no one
who promises they'll always be there.

all you gave me was rage

you invalidated
my concerns, my 
worries, and my trauma;
but now you're confused
as to why we don't
often speak?
you can read my journal,
and instead of getting some
self-reflection you decided
to punish me for my feelings;
and take things away from me
that gave me joy—
you refused to let me lock my door
when i was angry so i could cool 
down because it was your house,
and you used to yell and belittle me
until i couldn't hold in the tears any longer;
you were never sorry for hurting me
just sorry for the tears that spilled forth
out of me—
never took the time to get to know me
only judged me,
i still get nightmares of you 
as a grown adult because the trauma
runs deep;
i didn't have depression because i stayed inside
a lot—
i had depression because all i wanted was
to be a good daughter,
and you wouldn't even acknowledge me;
you used your authority as a weapon in order 
to demand respect you never gave then got angry
when i refused to cave—
all i needed was love, all you gave me was rage


Bio: Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer. Her works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of ten poetry chapbooks, the latest being: Hecate's Child (Alien Buddha Publishing, November 2021). She's also the author of the novella Mates (Alien Buddha Publishing, March 2022). She has three micro-poetry collections out:  Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018), moon mother (Origami Poems Project, March 2020.), and & so i believe (Origami Poems Project, April 2021). She has published four full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020), The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020), Mythology of My Bones (Cyberwit, August 2020), and you will not control me (Cyberwit, March 2021).

Poetry Feature for Linda M. Crate from the Anthologies

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

5 poems by Linda M. Crate

Several new poems by Linda M Crate

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 works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of ten poetry chapbooks, the latest being: Hecate's Child (Alien Buddha Publishing, November 2021). She's also the author of the novella Mates (Alien Buddha Publishing, March 2022). She has three micro-poetry collections out:  Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018), moon mother (Origami Poems Project, March 2020.), and & so i believe (Origami Poems Project, April 2021). She has published four full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020), The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020), Mythology of My Bones (Cyberwit, August 2020), and you will not control me (Cyberwit, March 2021).

2 Poems by Linda M. Crate : “Anyone Can Appreciate the Light” & “Until He Was Gone”

stop harmful narratives

saw a video
where a woman was
blaming mental illness
on a lack of faith,
and insisting that it was
the fault of demons;

can we not push
harmful narratives that
aren’t true when mental health
is still a stigma no matter
how much we speak of it?

she said it was just her opinion
when people called her
out instead of owning up to
her mistake,

and it just is exhausting
to see people be so willfully ignorant;

inherited my anxiety and my
depression from my mother but that doesn’t
make me a bad person or unworthy
of love and care.

it’s so obvious

you said it was all the time
i spent alone that made me
depressed,
but honestly it was you
making me feel like no matter
what i wouldn’t be good enough;

tried to be a good daughter
but you wouldn’t let me be anything
less than a burden to you and you made me
feel as everyone saw me that way—

when i stopped trying i was then
criticized for that, too, as if no matter what
i was going to be the villain in your story;

you were the adult and i was the child but
somehow your feelings were more valid than mine

in your eyes—

you always invalidated my stress,
my fears,
and my dreams;

then you wonder why we aren’t close?
it’s so obvious.

i didn’t need everyone to like me

i was bullied
relentlessly
always
even had a guidance counselor
tell me if i weren’t so weird
i would fit in with my
friends,
and it was that day i promised myself
i would always hold on and value
my weird;
because i decided i was worth being me
a long time ago—
because once i did try to fit in,
yet nothing i did ever earned the love
or respect from my peers
that i so craved;
and i realized that not everyone’s opinion
mattered and i didn’t need the friendship
of everyone.

i am worthy and i always have been

there are some people
who walked away
that still haunt me

used to think that i wasn’t
good enough to be loved,

but sometimes you just have
to pull yourself out of that bed
with that last bit of strength
you have and push on because
some people who promise
you forever walk away;

they don’t always give you
closure or a reason—

just disappear from your life
becoming a ghost whilst you’re both
still living,

and i have to admit that some days
i can ignore it and other days it weighs
heavy but i have realized it has nothing
to do with me but everything to do with them;

i am worthy and i always have been.

we didn’t choose it

every school is against bullying
until it comes to doing something
about the bullies

they won’t step in and help you,

and they’ll make you feel as if it is
your own fault that you’ve been bullied;

but it is not my fault that other
teenagers were riddled with insecurities
and decided to take it out on me—

i used to laugh and talk loudly
until they bullied me,
and now i am so soft spoken
that people complain;

i was asked out as a joke and ostracized one
day by my friends for no reason at all—

they told the guidance counselor that i
just followed them like a puppy dog and was
“so weird” and the guidance counselor blamed me, too;

it angers me that those that are wounded and hurt
are blamed for their own pain because we didn’t choose it.

Bio: Linda M. Crate (she/her) is a Pennsylvanian writer. Her works have been published in numerous magazines and anthologies both online and in print. She is the author of ten poetry chapbooks, the latest being: Hecate’s Child (Alien Buddha Publishing, November 2021). She’s also the author of the novella Mates (Alien Buddha Publishing, March 2022). She has three micro-poetry collections out:  Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018), moon mother (Origami Poems Project, March 2020.), and & so i believe (Origami Poems Project, April 2021). She has published four full-length poetry collections Vampire Daughter (Dark Gatekeeper Gaming, February 2020), The Sweetest Blood (Cyberwit, February 2020), Mythology of My Bones (Cyberwit, August 2020), and you will not control me (Cyberwit, March 2021).

Several new poems by Linda M Crate

3 new poems from Linda M. Crate

2 Poems by Linda M. Crate : “Anyone Can Appreciate the Light” & “Until He Was Gone”