Poetry by Linda M. Crate

sometimes you have to swim 

​i was always on the outside looking in, looking for a scrap of love or affection; but too shy to ask for friendships—when push came to shove no one's ever fought for me, it's easier for them to let me go and die to my life; i know that am intense loving more and caring more than most—but i am fiercely loyal and i am a true friend, and when i love it is forever even long after they've forgotten and replaced me; i have learned loving myself is the purest and truest love i may ever find—everyone's so busy, too busy trying to save themselves in this hectic thing called life to notice if you're drowning; sometimes you have to swim even when you're anchored to your grief that's trying to drag you beneath the waves—you are worthy of the love you crave even if you never receive it.




japanese flowers 

the only woman i loved as something other than friend was also the one who taught me that my scars made me beautiful—she looked at my scars after my gallbladder surgery and said they looked like japanese flowers as she traced over the scar with her fingers, and she told me that she couldn't understand my shame because she found our scars made us beautiful; it turns out she was right—in every broken place that's where the light always gets in me—she always struck me as otherworldly; a faerie that smelled of roses who was both vulnerable and soft yet fierce and thorned—she reawakened dreams in me when i thought the dreaming was dead, and accepted me as i was; all these years and years later after the misunderstanding that unraveled our friendship, i still find her unforgettable—my grandmother said she was a bit of a character, but i think that was why i loved her so much.




i am intense 

seared with scars, charred from the flames of the past; sometimes it's hard to remember that the water heals for all she takes away; but i remember in my weakest and most painful moments she gave me her hand and washed me clean of this anger and these wounds—i never knew daylight could be so violent until the sun and rain conspired against me to destroy me utterly, but i wouldn't surrender to his power; yes, i died but i rose again—i looked him in the eye and laughed to show him that i was stronger than every monument of pain he sculpted into my heart, to show him that i didn't need him anymore; even if it were a pretty lie to protect myself from the anguish of the intensity of these feelings i still feel—you can't choose what stays and what fades away, but they insist that he is my past to leave him behind; but i am not past the pain—i have a love that never dies and a heart that always cares even when it's bruised because i am unconditionally loving, a never ending light; everything about me is intense—i can't half-ass anything.
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Bio: Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has three published chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014), and If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016). Her fantasy novel Blood & Magic was published in March 2015. The second novel of this series Dragons & Magic was published in October 2015. The third of the seven book series Centaurs & Magic was published November 2016. Her novel Corvids & Magic was published March 2017. Her novel Phoenix Tears is forthcoming.

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