karma'll hit you
always pushing through
wounds
creating new scars
from the old
as is your
custom,
and i hope one day that karma
revisits the terror upon you
that you've given
others;
forever it seems i was caught in a tide
of self-loathing and disgust
when it was really you
i should have
drowned—
as a child of the moon,
it'd be so easy to lose my temper
blame my actions on my
dark side;
but i know karma could only hit your harder
than i ever could.
- linda m. crate
fallen from grace
bruised, broken, and bleeding
you left me crushed
like a rose
trampled to the ground
crucified me with my own love
because the more i loved you the less you
respected me,
and i'll never understand why
i found such bliss in
your empty and insincere words;
they say twenty-twenty is
the measure for hindsight
but i wish it were the means of observation,
too,
you were nothing like you pretended to be
always a beacon of hell but never
heaven
for your feathers turned onyx long ago.
- linda m. crate
not half the man you think
you can bury your
crucifix in the sand
for all the good
it will do you
we both know you're no saint
past nor present
your broken halo is evidence
enough of that as is
the blood on your lips and the broken
threads you carry in your hands
conquests of love
you caused to atrophy because of your
inability to love anyone
let alone yourself,
and ordinarily i would say that you were
beautiful and believe in yourself;
but i would encourage
a lying narcissist to fall deeper in love
with the fallacy of who they
believe they are
so divorce yourself from the reality of you
that you see because you are not
half the man your imagination
makes.
- linda m. crate
drowning in your blood
i danced with your light
thinking it were heaven
when you were every
bit of hell,
and i was oblivious to that wolf smirk
until it was too late and black
feathers snared around
my neck;
but i knew that not all that whispered black
was wicked for i have and always will
be raven born—
i was furious that you would wear such a color
with indignity
because sometimes white is the most dishonest hue
in nature because none of us as pure as
driven snow,
and i'm here to remind you as much as i strive
to be heaven
i can also be your hell tearing through your fangs
with my talons
rescinding your fierce strength to a weak whimper
as you drown in your own blood.
- linda m. crate
hungry souls
we all seek validation
in some form
whilst others seek to invalidate
themselves as if excusing themselves
from the very world they live in
dancing on the periphery
of untruth and calling it honesty
you are one of the latter
forming scars
deep in the bosoms of all those who dare
be brave enough to love you because
to you love is a consequence
of war,
and you've only hungered for bodies
sweat and blood and chaos
primordial as the moon blood in my veins;
you say you know of love but you
only know and give lust
always leaving
hunger behind in the bones of all you
shatter.
- linda m. crate
trampler of roses
a man of no ambition
for life nor love
simply a corpse pressed into
a living body
i suppose you'd have a lot of people
who could relate to you,
but i cannot let go of this fire or these
dreams shining so bright
in me they retain the gaze of the sun
and the moon;
you love your destruction and death
but i adore my loving light
transforming even the darkest parts of myself
into something more beautiful as i learn
not only to love others but myself
something you've never done—
concerned with outward appearances and fronts
you've never seen the blackness of your
heart or the coarseness of your
words
always you were a victim,
but never have you ever been at fault;
simply slaughtering flowers with reckless abandon
to satiate your never ending forest of
greed.
- linda m. crate
