felt like dirt

when i said
something to sister about her job,
and how the kid probably
didn't like touch
because he was autistic
you had to bring up that i was weird
about being touched;
like i am not already self-conscious enough
about myself—
& maybe it was just something
you were curious about,
but you could ask rather than
accuse me or put me in the spot in front of others;
it made me feel like dirt when you brought it up—
maybe that's why you apologized
i don't know,
but despite that hiccup dinner was lovely;
and i don't know how to be better about touch
only i don't like things that are forced
and sometimes i would rather be near someone
without having to touch them.

Linda M. Crate's poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has six 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, March 2019), and one micro-chapbook Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018). She is also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Books, June 2018).