Flora

I wear a mask

You cannot see me

I am merely words

I am a thief

Stealing the image

Of who a writer is

My pen name she is tender

My pen name she is tough

She is a part of me

But then again she's not

It would be an honor

To be something like her

But for now I will walk afraid

Of my entire world

I am speaking

She is writing

Tell me what's the difference

Who is listening ?

I don't know

Together we are silent

I mutter poems under my breath

As I cross the street

She screams them from the roof tops

Until she can no longer speak