Aug 5, 2025
"I think your laughter used to live in my ribs before I was born."
I dreamed I was a tree. Many many times. My roots were singing. Were they mine? I think they might've been yours - your laughter living in my ribcage. I will set it free. Please, let me return it home. (= please let me make you laugh)
keep the napkin. I want/need you to remember the sound of my ribs. Read the language between our bones. It'll tell you what I lack the motion for. Speak it out loud - Our Quiet poetry - like you're not afraid of the silence that follows.
#handwritten poetry#found fragments#napkin notes#quiet confessions#letters never sent#poetry for the soul#aching tenderness#ribcage memories#the language of bones#offering my chest like a prayer#my ribs wrote this#dear almost#between sips and silences#soft chaos archive#napkin poetry#surreal#writer chaos#chaotic thoughts#chaotic academia