I sat in my own lonliness,
to think and drink,
to surround myself in bitter thoughts.
As I read and read,
of someone who was not I,
my stomach grew weak and turned.
I could ryhthme my heart race,
with each dropp to my tongue.
I could feel my palms sweat,
with every image flashing by.
To her I'd want to give my heart,
but restrain it just the same.
For I was only fear,
and she something honest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
your fear is genuine, a sincere expression.