Almost* (adverb): not quite; very nearly.

Almost is the worse way to love.
He almost loved her. She almost loved him. It just won't ever be good enough.

I keep telling myself, maybe you almost loved me. Maybe that's why I still think I have a chance.

Before you, I was ready to die.
I didn't hate my life, but I didn't love it.
I was just kind of here.

Then you entered my life.
Every night I prayed that I would get to live forever with you.
I loved life more than I thought possible because you were there.

Now that you've left me for dead, I'm ready to die again.
I pray every night that God would take me home,
Let me leave this living Hell and go to paradise.
Because right now I have nothing to live for.
You took everything I had, and then some.
I'm ready to die now, but don't feel bad about it.
Its not your problem, just be happy my dear.

Lust is a word
full of emptiness
and passion
and pain
Lust is a place
full of smiles
and broken hearts
and red tears
Lust is a song
full of movement
and rythm
and voice
Lust is you
that’s full of me
and we create art
that kills love

but
     I
      want
               to
                 sin
                     on
                         every
                                  inch
                                        of
                                           your
                                                 body.

maybe you won't find me beautiful
because of my hair
or my lips
or the color of my skin
maybe you won't love
the way i walk or the way i dress
but i hope you fall in love with
the words in my soul
and the fire in my heart
and the myriad of stars in my eyes
and the wonder and grace that
are tangled in my hair
and the bravery that is
locked up in my bones
and the unfading beauty
of my spirit
and if you think that's
beautiful,
that is enough for me.

Today
I am...                                                                                            I am but
                                                                                                       a shadow,
of who I was. A broken, grey thing.
                                                                                                     a voiceless
thing, miming lyric and ****** rhyme,
A broken watch that's keeping time
and the watch has hands, but it's
                                                                                                     faceless
and in the broken wiry strands, I'm
                                                                                                    hidden,
waiting to stop time, and rewind
back to the moment when you shared my misery.
But you broke free,
and now you mock me.
Your laughing life mocks me, leaves me
                                                                                                    raging,
and vainly                                                                                  hunting
How dare you be a beautiful something,
and leave me behind to be this ugly
                                                                                                    nothing.