vases
waiting to be
filled
with your flowers;
you don't consider that
we are anything
more than
that
we are just vessels
for your seeds--
there's no need for our passions,
our talents, or our souls
to be laid bare
only our bodies because
to you
that's all we are;
I wish you could see that you
are not the sun
the earth revolves around,
but rather
a sailor to be drowned
in the fury of
the ocean whose daughters you've
spoiled and laid in ruin.
Author 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. Recently her two chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013) and Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014) were published. Her fantasy novel Blood & Magic was published in March 2015.