you'd think having a little bit of everything is great
but to me it's the biggest root of insecurity
when you know you're good enough,
you tend to think that everything should go your way
and when it doesn't, you ask yourself
what else do i lack?

then i remember
i'm always only second place
and though many would **** for silver
i would **** for gold
because it hurts more to think of
what could've been
if only you tried harder
if only you were better
because almost is never enough

but will anything ever be?

Six months of freedom
from this evil within
thought I escaped the sorrow
the devil had vanished,
thought I was finally going to win

Then the pain came crashing back deep into my bones
so sudden, so intense
as though I was being pummelled with stones
please not again,
don't make yourself at home
I was so excited for myself
to feel no anguish
it was soothing to roam
yet I lay here
after six months of ease
escape my grasp
and yet again
I am alone.

I’m not a pile of shattered glass on the hard floor, beyond repair.
I’m a broken record that repeats repeats repeats the same memories of you

I’m not a river of silent tears streaming down a burning hot face.
I’m a restless night and a mysteriously swollen lip in the morning

I’m not a shaky voice on the verge of crumbling.
I’m a mindless ramble and a laugh that’s too loud.

I’m not the bitter taste of liquor on the back of your throat or the harsh feel of cold night air on bare skin or the glare of streetlights on wet pavement at 2AM
I’m an oversized t-shirt that’s probably not warm enough to sleep in when the temperatures at night dip too low, but it would be if you were here but you’re not and it was the only thing that wasn’t on the floor and I’m too caught up in you to clean up me so I’m an oversized t-shirt that isnt warm enough on its own but is trying.

And you aren’t trillions of shards shooting through my stomach when I hear your voice all the times we walk by eachother as strangers on the streets.
You’re a slight pressure on my mind, everywhere I go.

We weren’t anything of significance.
We weren’t raw throats or bloodshot eyes or holes in the wall.
But, neither were we a hot cup of coffee on cold fingertips.

We weren’t some tragic love story.

You were just a tired boy with nothing to do
And I was just a girl a little too high on hopes that were too high to climb up to and I fell a little too hard and got a bit bruised on the way down.

Now you’re just a memory of selfish lips.

And I’m just a broken record.

It was a simple mistake but you burned your hands
A step out of time in a synchronized dance, but you
Slid off the edge and into a trap
Because once you're a sinner you can never go back

It was a look at the sun one second too long
A note slightly flat in an almost perfect song, but the
Discord rang out in the depths of fate
And now the damage is done and you're a little too late

I almost wrote a poem
saying it would be
the last one
I ever write for you.
                   I almost meant it.
But I reside in a forest of words
I long to lay upon your feet.
You are the only tenant.
Though I have already seen you hunger
for a wood more abundant with beauty.
You yearned
for the abstract; the colorful.
This is where I failed you, love,
for all I have to offer
is the pattern of my handwriting
against a bleak sheet of paper.
How is that to contest
a canvas
that turns heads
with its baby pinks and powder blues?
So I lay here
in the woods
that swarm with lost things,
longing to see the sun again.
And I am always reaching
      and reaching
             and reach i n g
But I am never quite there.
I lay still in the forest
with an abundance of almosts.

I walk into my room and kick the heater over to stop it from blowing hot air in my room. It's boiling in here. I kick off my pants and lay on my bed. *Why is life so hard?

That moment when you're caught off guard and you suddenly see the face of the one you used to love.

You repeatedly steal glances at that said person and just miss everything about that them. The way you hug and you feel, the warmth, security.

The way you hold hands. So tight and like never wanting to let each other go, holding on and feeling the tips of every finger intertwined with yours.

The way you'd stroke through every hair strand and feel it ever so nice as it glides through your hands.

The way you'd kiss those lips so soft and warm. When you kiss, you feel the love and you're sure, in that moment of blissful awestruck. You're sure that you've set your feelings for this person.

But, it wasn't just about the physical things you miss about the one you used to love.
It's also about the emotional investment you have that was wasted and gone with the wind.

As you stare at the face of the one you used to love, you remember every moment you had and feelings that came along with it. And you're sure, in that moment.. You still have set your feelings for this person, and it's not going to fade away any time soon.

A l m o s t
Is that all we are meant to be
To come so far, get so close
Whoever said love is free?
Open your eyes, really look
Look at the way I see you
Like you're all I've ever wanted
I wish to be that for you
Not just an almost

I've touched your hand
And you've touched mine
I've been in your arms
Every single time
We've danced and sung
Laughed and loved
Looked in your eyes, smiled
I'm so much more than an almost
P l e a s e