Folded Words and Fragile Truths

I fold the paper, soft and neat,

With trembling hands and restless feet.

Each crease a whisper, faint and small,

A fragile truth, a careful call.

Dear friend, these words are not enough,

To hold the weight of love, so tough.

Yet here they rest, in ink and light,

To bridge the silence of the night.

I write of days we laughed and cried,

The battles fought, the dreams denied.

Your name is etched in every line,

A mirror to this heart of mine.

But in these folds, a truth concealed,

A wound I never quite revealed.

The fear of loss, the weight of time,

The guilt that lingers, sharp and prime.

Yet still, I send this fragile plea,

Hoping you’ll read and still love me.

For words once folded, hearts once torn,

Can find in friendship, new reborn.

So take this letter, gently hold,

Its truths are soft, its words are bold.

And know that even as it fades,

Our bond remains, through nights and days.