I live a poet’s life in an anonymous plane
Unseen by those considered normal,
Unheard by those deemed sane.
The only proof of my existence
Dangerous knives of poetry in lines on paper
An alias moves the pen in my hand
That scribbles stinging, bitter words
About love, death and the atrocities of man

I am anonymous
Even my name is not my own
My thoughts are scrawled wickedly with intent on paper
For the masses to observe
At a distance my carnivorous demanding audience must remain
From physical contact with these dull creatures
I gladly refrain
Retreating behind a mask of stone
Beneath it a face that bears lines of great sadness
A frozen sculpture of a heart for many years entombed

So it is and shall always be
Truly my words are all you will ever see
Closing off the door to reality
With the stroke of a pen
To my invisible life I hastily return
I am anonymous

This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby

I'm trying to forget but
Every creak of a
Door
Is the sound
of your apartment's
Stairs and
When I step into the
February night
The only coldness I
Feel comes from the
Chills
Going down my
Spine as your hand
Rests on my
Neck
Gently tapping at my
Collar bone

I've never felt so
Poisoned, My senses
Never so robbed

You asked me how I would spend
My last twenty-four hours if they started
At this very moment

We talked late at night planning all the
Things we'd have to do, like camping
Or watching the sunset
But I was too afraid to admit that
I would only need to fall asleep
Next to you with your lips
pressed against mine, and I'd die happy

I got to thinking and realized come August,
We will all be spending our last twenty-four hours
Together in the summer sun, and then
College will take us far away to start our
Separate adventures out of this small town

Sitting in my bed late at night
I couldn't help but cry because if there's
Anything I'm more afraid of than death
It's being alone, and I can't take another year
Of starting over

I don't know how to
get rid of this silent rage
that burns like white flames.