linda m. crate

no depths 

when you look in 

the mirror to see your face,

i hope instead of 

your features you are 

haunted by every ghost of

every person you've been

a terrible friend to;

i hope you recognize

you're not as innocent

as you pretend to be and that

being oblivious does not

excuse all the harm you've done—

but i don't expect an apology

or for you to hold yourself 

accountable because i know

you've got no depths, only shallows;

go ahead and stick with the

waters you're used to—

i'm going to dive deeper into

the depths of who i am because

i was a mermaid meant to swim

oceans not mud puddles.

so many masks 

when i look at my 

face and examine my features,

sometimes i see a pretty

woman;

other times i see a scared

little girl

and other times an angry teenager—

they're all a part of me,

always have been and always

will be;

i have never been the type of

person who has one facet

i contain multitudes like all of 

my favorite goddesses—

i think most people have more

than one face,

but everyone likes to wear

so many masks;

you may never know any of their

features.

glad i'll never be like you 

when you look at your

face features,

you tell me that you look

more like one parent

than the other;

i look into the pictures

and all i can see is

bitterness where sweetness

once was—

i will never understand how

you can go from a sisterhood

to purposefully excluding me

and giving me the silent treatment

over nothing,

but somehow life shows you

who not to be;

and i'm glad i'll never be like you

discarding someone who loved

me like they were nothing—

i will never look into my reflection in

the mirror haunted by who i neglected.