The most common element throughout my time posting here, a little more than four months now, is most likely my lack of confidence into the craft I’m presenting for you to read. Although having such tender readers as you is a soothing march towards a path of more determined writing, I cannot help but to distill what is perhaps the only good spawn of this plaguing inadequacy: my unending gratitude, the joyous smiles whenever someone comments such warm and embracing notes to my compositions, those to which I give such little worth, those that you see something in, sometimes I’m tearful just thinking of it.
Writing since such young age, I’ve only been compelled to share very recently, mostly out of fear and self-preservation, but this journey of sharing has been no less than magical, almost out of a book. I have long ways to go in my abilities and considerations, as well as my Art, which I plan to refine until the skin of my fingers is all but spent, but both readers and fellow poets here on WordPress have gifted me with a tenacity I could never verse, and my short time here has a been a poem in and of itself. One of those Wilde spoke of, poems that are lived and not written, poetry and humility.
Together, we are giving new colours to a craft that seems increasingly forgotten, and this Art that spans millenniums lives, breathes and laughs within our hearts, we are the oxygen that fuels it’s flames and the salt of it’s waves. To think that I’ve actually touched people in meaningful ways with the sharing of my primitive and young compositions, already brings tears to my eyes, and makes every ounce of my brimming shyness seem so minimal compared to that unbridled joy.
I’ve always been skeptical of over-the-head love, but I truly love everyone who has encouraged me and left the sweetest messages. When I reply that it means the world to me, I mean it with every second of my breath. It means the world, and I love you, because my gratitude couldn’t be grander, because I’m just a kid that writes and you have the patience to read, and that means more than a thousand poems could ever convey, because it means the world, and I hope to only grow more grateful.
Thank you, truly,