Linda M. Crate’s three more poems


nail of a coffin


i wanted to be the perfect daughter,

thought then you might love me;

but nothing i ever did was

good enough—


so i stopped trying,

and you criticized me for that also;


made me feel like an outsider

in my own family

and a burden—


nothing was ever good enough,

but i was worthy of your

criticism

always;


my distance should be understood

but you can't comprehend it—


your kindness now

means nothing to the child

who felt like a failure,

her anger still burns in my veins;


i still remember the disrespect

and the cruelty—


still remember how you were

my first bully,

and i'm supposed to believe that

you love me?


love isn't supposed to hurt,

you feel like the nail 

of a coffin that isn't mine.

you'll remember


sometimes the world slaps

you in the face just because,

and i'm tired of it;


should i have any more

character development then i 

might become a villain—


not the girl you left behind,


your empty promises

i know are hollow now;


but i believed in you

and our sisterhood 

i believed we'd rekindle

our spark and light a 

fire of stars worth remembering—


but you proved me wrong,

and i hope it haunts you


every time you hear the song

of the crows;

i hope that you never know

peace when the moon kisses your

skin because you broke my heart


and you didn't care—


forgot me?

you'll remember.

sinner & saint


i know we can all be

knives and we can all be

wounded,


i won't pretend i am always

the saint;


but i am also not 

always the 

sinner—


don't look me in my eye,

and tell me i deserve 

to live a life that doesn't feel

like it's mine;


no one should struggle simply

to exist—


because each of us

is magic,

and i think it is tragic that

some will never remember 

this and some have 

forgotten this;


each of us was kissed by 

this universe and she loves us all—


i refuse to believe this is the

best we can do,

i know we can do better;

so i will dare to dream for those

who no longer remember dreams—


someone has to slay the 

nightmares,

may as well be me.


Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian writer whose poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has seventeen published chapbooks the latest being: only the future knows (Alien Buddha Press, November 2025).

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