By: Linda M Crate

they’ll burn you even
if you aren’t a witch
they’ll burn you
simply for being a woman
they’ll burn you if you don’t
choose their path
of mediocrity,
and i have never wanted their box;
i have never known where it even was
starved for love
once i sought their approval
and they mocked me for it so now i stand
tall, proud, and alone—
i am the wolf that will turn on them all and rip them
to ribbons for all their lack of loyalty,
and i am the keeper of golden moons;
i have so many dreams and so many dreams have me
that i will burn straight through their hell with my heaven
because i have no room in my heart for their disorder
they mistake my kindness for weakness
but the darkest parts of me will chew them into oblivion
so deep that even void won’t know their name—
they’ll drown because they’ve only
ever known the shallows,
and i won’t be sorry because my mind was meant to be more
than a glass menagerie for ghosts to rule as their haunted house
begone!
i have no time to entertain you
because i am no savior crucified and bleeding
just a woman who wants more than what the world is willing to give women.