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Isabelle Jun 2016
I was at your door, I almost knock to say sorry.

But you didn't. You let the night pass without us fixing the damage

I almost called you, it took me so much effort not to.

But still you didn't. You let the night pass without us communicating our thoughts.


You see, your "almost" are never enough and as much as you want me to understand that you tried your best, that you almost do, it was never ever a consolation.


*It hurts to know that you almost did but the fact that you didn't is what hurts me the most.
The point is you never did.
A Psalmist Jun 2016
There once was a lingering Almost
That followed you like a ghost.
She's haunted your past
Leaves you downcast
and both lifeless and comatose

She decided to stay for a while
So long that she had a child
His name is Regret
who will make you forget
Exactly how to reconcile

But one day you decide you've had enough
And demand that they pack up their stuff
They were so close to leaving
And almost believing
Until they called your bluff.
AndSoOn May 2016
How well can you fake a smile ?
Could you beat me at this game ?
Cause I've had years of training,
But I'd gladly pass my crown.

Tired of being tired
And so angry at myself
My heart needs a break, or else
I might let myself drown again

I don't bother anymore
I just fake my happiness
Loneliness replaced my friends
And I don't care anymore...
Leigh Marie May 2016
Two lips
months ago intertwined
after the ball dropped
the kiss seemed merely transient
at least, to the laughter around
the couch hugged us and breathed forever
each new day reminded me of New Year's
three months don't seem too long, after three years
except for when every "now", "serious" and "care" can wink
at me infinity, your words spinning around like
our lips that night, and the next
and the next; now I only
know for certain what I
can see, waiting
like May's
tulips
MakeAJoy May 2016
Grabbed a paper and my soul
Didn't intend to write this queue
Searched the storm deep within
Found the eye, it leads to you.

Stumbled up and around
Scrunched up by that something
Looking around the weary hole
Found it's all for nothing.

Here I am still bound to that
Silly me, I've got it bad
Cursing you unending thunders
For that something — something we've almost had.
But almost is never enough, *******.
Kelly Bitangcol May 2016
It all happened the night I sat on an empty seat on the train. My body was tired, I feel like my eyes would shut down in any minute, I couldn't even say something because my mouth was probably exhausted too (of speaking too much, probably), but one thing is for sure, my mind will never be worn out. My mind will never stop. Funny, I thought, when you are happy and contented about everything in your life, or when your whole self is already numb and can't feel anything whilst without any caution your mind will explode with thoughts and ideas that could either save or destroy you. But my mind isn't exploding at the moment, my mind isn't experiencing any chaos and war inside of it, there was only one thing my mind was telling me, that I just want to be left alone tonight. Maybe that's why I sat on an empty seat on the train.

I wasn't left alone the moment an old woman sat beside me. I was ******, beyond ******, I'm having one of the worst days in my life and all I want right now is to be alone in this world and then one person would sit beside me.

“Tough day, huh?” She asked me. I just smiled and nodded at her, I was too tired to say something, but I wasn't tired to realize how bad I acted. I started feeling guilty of the things rattling around my head.

“It's just a bad day, sweetheart. Not a bad life.” This woman is obviously trying to start a conversation, I hesitated to talk to her at first, but then maybe my mouth would be less tired when I decide to speak again.

“I'm sorry, I'm just, tired.. Tired of everything, I guess.”

“I understand, sweetie. Wait, I know, why don't we just play a game? 20 questions?” Wow, 7 minutes ago I was just asking to be all by myself and now I'm about to play a game with a stranger. Even worse, she will know 20 facts about me.

“Uhm, okay, I guess.”

“Okay, me first. The most cliché question of them all, what's your favourite color?”

“Blue.”

“Ahh, let's proceed to the next one.” And the next ones became even more predictable. Favourite movie, book, food. I felt irritated but at the same time, relieved. She wouldn't know 20 facts about me, I could always lie. However, epiphany hit me when I forgot she has only been asking 19 questions, then the last question erased all my relief.

“And the last question I have before I leave, who is your favourite almost?

“What? I don't understand.”

“Is it the boy you kissed one sunday night but after that he told you goodbye, and you didn't know he meant it, that's why you started wondering where's the good in that word? Or is it the boy who told you he loved you every single day and suddenly one day he decided not to talk to you ever again like those days never happened? Is it the boy who was the reason you lied when I asked you what was your favourite colour, it wasn't blue, wasn't it? It was the colour of his eyes. Or maybe, it's that someone who looked at you like you were the entire universe but the world decided that being inlove with a universe is a dangerous thing to do, that's why they did everything to part the ways of you two. Now tell me, dear, who is your favourite almost?”

And then suddenly I was awaken. I no longer felt tired, like my body can move again right now. And that my mind is exploding again, I even think it will burst. “I... I don't.. know.”

But who is it, really? It was hard deciding when somebody's lips were the reason why I felt alive sometime in the past, when the words of that somebody were at the same time my disease and my cure, my hurricane and my sunshine, my poison and my antidote. When somebody's eyes became my favourite colour of all time that's why whenever I see things that are green I feel like I'm still at home, and when somebody had the power to make me the universe when I'm just a human being, clearly a dangerous thing, but I would gladly experience the danger to be with that someone again.  

I was about to say something when the doors of the train opened and the woman suddenly stood up, she was about to leave, I guess. She smiled at me and walked away. But one last time, she turned around said these words to me:

“You almost knew, didn't you?”

And just like that, I was left alone on the empty seat on the train.
taia Apr 2016
it's nights like these
that my mind becomes my own worst enemy.

when i put on a rope necklace,
and pour myself a tall glass of bleach.

imagining what it would be like to have all the pain stop,
and for the static noise to be silent for once.

it's enough for me to go through the motions,
preparing to end it all.

but i wake up from my trance each time,
realizing the truth of the world.

i undo the clasp of my necklace of rope,
and pour the bleach down a drain.

the razor blades go back in the drawer,
and the pills back in the bottle.

waiting until next time.

it's nights like these where i almost do...
but don't.
-- Apr 2016
It's like when you were a kid
and you tripped down the sidewalk,
but you didn't fall hard enough to bleed,
and nothing appears to be wrong,
from the outside,
at least,
so you shove those tear drops
back down your eye holes,
and get up,
and keep walking,

like **** that sidewalk.
Celeste McNeil Apr 2016
One almost tore away my wall
One almost said he chooses me
Another almost made me fall
One almost finally set me free

But almost only counts
in horseshoes and hand grenades
Fool's gold has luster
and sweet are borrowed serenades
You can't call it love
I'll call your bluff
because almost is only almost
and that's not enough

A roller coaster only climbing
missing the train by a minute's timing
A frozen bud in a snap of cold
An unfinished novel, story untold
A sentence fragment
A muddled accent
A pantomimed kiss
A swing and a miss
A pencil sketch
A warm up stretch
A suspended chord
A ringless lord
A lightning bolt, no rain or thunder
A child at play, no sense of wonder

Almost only counts
in horseshoes and hand grenades
Fool's gold has luster
and sweet are borrowed serenades
You can't call it love
I'll call your bluff
because almost is only almost
and that's not enough

I almost love you too
I almost let you in
I almost wish I was the one
I can almost begin again

And even if the words only almost rhyme
I only almost care by the end of the lines
While I could almost forget, in truth I find
that I will always remember how you were almost mine
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