open door, open page

hello, poetry.
i’ve been writing
in the quiet corners of my life
on napkins, in notebooks,
sometimes just in my head
before sleep takes it all away.

i’m not here to impress.
i’m here to belong.
to share something real,
even if it’s a little broken,
even if it’s just
a breath
that made it to paper.

i read you,
and it feels like home
i haven’t entered yet.

if there’s room for one more voice
in your wild, honest garden
i’m here.
i’m ready.

just say yes.