A poem by Linda M. Crate

person walking on fire

had to lose the notion of hellfire 

i wonder if you ever
think of me,

always i think of you;

whether it be pink sunsets
or white roses or vampires or kate
bush or vnv nation or someone
talking about repo! the genetic opera,
there's always something to
remind me—

i felt bad our friendship ended
without you knowing the truth,
and i don't know if it makes a difference after
our misunderstanding;

but i loved you and i never knew how
to tell you let alone admit it to myself—

had to lose the notion of hellfire and fear
of hell before i could realize that love was love,
nothing more and nothing less;
and certainly not something to be ashamed of.


Linda M. Crate (she/her) 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 eleven published chapbooks: A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press – June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon – January 2014), If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016), My Wings Were Made to Fly (Flutter Press, September 2017),  splintered with terror (Scars Publications, January 2018), More Than Bone Music (Clare Songbirds Publishing House, March 2019), the samurai (Yellow Arrowing Publishing, October 2020), Follow the Black Raven (Alien Buddha Publishing, July 2021), Unleashing the Archers (Guerilla Genesis Press, August 2021), Hecate’s Child (Alien Buddha Publishing, November 2021) and fat & pretty (Dancing Girl Press, June 2022), and three micro-chapbooks Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018), moon mother (Origami Poems Project, March 2020), and & so I believe (Origami Poems Project, April 2021). She is also the author of the novella Mates (Alien Buddha Publishing, March 2022).

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