
Part of my poetry collection, Margins of the First Draft — a piece about the courage to feel, to love without demands, and to say it out loud.
A moment where poetry and pure emotion meet.
9. She waited, afraid she has to look him in the eyes
So I stood there, my garments drenched
Just like when I was a child,
Standing barefoot in our garden,
With rain running down my skin
Waiting, deluged by poetry untold
Choking on words I could not make rhyme
Poetry on the Margins #9 Scribbles on the margins
Why are we scared to show our true emotions?
To tell the people that we admire
that we absolutely, without question, adore them?
Why are we afraid of being pushed aside, rejected?
Laughed at, humiliated?
Why is love often seen as something
that has to be reciprocated?
Why can't there be such a love that is
quiet, unconditional, and kind —
non-demanding?
So, now I am
just saying
that I fucking love you
and I always will.

Perhaps I could invite you to read more of my work:
If you like short stories I have them scooped up into one category (including the six-sentence stories).
Or perhaps I could interest you in poetry and refections or something more personal like the Blog.
I also happen to own an IT studies blog in Estonian and "Chaos in Spring" can be listened to on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.


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