#almostlove
Not every first appearance impresses—
like walking into a church where nobody smiles;
:everyone working on themselves, but no real
service with a smile. And I know my first appearance
didn’t give you one, yet you stayed; more than a
visitor, while I remained a bench warmer in your life.
Doing the disservice of trying to ruin you—
when I should’ve rune’d you... once an innocent
wreck, crashing into guilty pleasures; my guilty
conscience…for not spending enough time with
you— not enough of me in your all.
Our final moment could be the start of it all—
and maybe I want to see you all, before we
lose it all. Fall into my trust— lose your all in
a trust fall; let your body confess what it’s been
holding, let me hear every unspoken call.
Where leaves meet their fall, they don’t
question the letting— and winter’s fall is only
a season… so stay a little longer—give it
your all; maybe, just maybe… something in us
still grows through it all—
—or we become the “almost” that had it all.
…and just like that—this is the end of service.
Apr 4
Apr 4, 2026 at 11:59 AM UTC
We began like a Kachha Mango
raw, restless, alive.
We ended like Dairy Milk
sweet... but quiet inside.
The sweetness never changed,
so why did the doting fade?
Why so hidden like a god in stone,
meant to be felt, never shown?
Where did our half-bloom go
too flimsy to be real?
Real enough to feel,
yet not real enough to stay. 🍫
@NomaInfine777
Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 1:31 AM UTC
Why doesn't anyone care about me like I do?
Loving is lethal, my world revolves around you, but isn't that enough, right?
Keep wondering what the future will bring, without realizing it, you'll understand that I was here, we could have been something.
Why am I not enough for you?
Why do you keep belittling yourself in the meanest ways?
When you understand what you were, are, and will be, the hands of the clock will mark the end of an unrequited, broken, and exhausting love.
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 4:10 PM UTC
the eyes never meet
yours
the hands never hold
mine
my eyes swell
my hands bleed
i am lovestruck
for that bewitching smile
even a wicked heart
can’t lie
it is worth the beats
thus i dream
to grow old
with you
but the future i see
is me trying
trying to remember
your name
Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 12:58 PM UTC
that day stays
like warmth after a candle’s blown out—
proof something lived here,
even as the room cools.
your arms rewrote gravity.
for a moment,
I knew exactly where to belong
without having to ask.
the kiss was brief,
which is what made it cruel—
like being shown a language
and immediately losing the words.
now my body remembers
what my hands are denied.
every almost
leans toward you,
then collapses.
I keep touching the space
where you were,
as if absence
might one day
answer back.
Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 8:34 AM UTC
If you must be gone
Then come to me
In almosts
Almost seen
Almost heard
Almost real
Enough
To make me hope
Bt never
Enough to stay.
Jul 26, 2025
Jul 26, 2025 at 12:33 PM UTC
I didn't know it would feel like this
That shallow kiss
You grabbed my wrist
The second and the first
Were momentary bliss
I was on cloud nine
If only for a moment in time
We only met twice
I thought we'd been spliced
It was warm, and it was nice
I'd thought that maybe,
you could be my first someone
I'd promised myself - "I won't run"
An awkward thank you
My cheeks aflush
I stepped away,
And then came the hush
Why does this feel so strange?
Like my heart has decayed
Brown, and withered
A moth without its flame?
It was warm, and it was nice.
Still...we only met twice
I suppose I was too ready to open the door
Unfortunately,
This has happened before
Maybe if we were to meet twice more
I might feel a flutter of desire,
I'm sure
Three days have gone,
I wait, I stall
I don't know how to feel at all
Was it karma,
or was it fate?
Did the universe just spit in my face?
I thought I had been brave -
I said yes. I had stayed.
I was willing to learn how love might taste,
My heart might have bloomed
in haste - not chaste
But maybe that was the mistake.
"The ones before were purely ******
"I'm not ready for love"
He said,
Something twisted in my chest
I hoped it wasn't true,
But I think you felt something different for me,
than I did for you
It seems you didn't want my feelings,
My hopes,
Or my dreams
I think you only wanted my body
Just to satisfy your needs
I was ready
Steady -
And now,
Empty
But it was warm, and it was nice.
We had only met twice.
Jul 17, 2025
Jul 17, 2025 at 5:47 AM UTC
In the case of searching for the right man— is it really the _right_
man you're after, or just the _right now_ kind? The good-time
lover. The temporary warmth. The one who shows up late, but
still makes you hope it wasn’t too late. Never mind how long it
takes— you’re just hoping you’ll be the one he takes.
And if you start to care, truly care, will the weight of his past rest
too heavy on your heart? Will it matter what he whispered into
someone else’s ear before whispering into yours? Would you
flinch knowing another ear was the trial run, and you’re just
the version he’s learning to hold better, running into his arms.
If his pride is armed like a gun— quick to shoot you down for
standing too close— if he can’t even see your reflection, like a
man wearing sunglasses indoors, would you still stay? Would
your cheeks burn too bright with blush, to see the red flags
waving in front of you?
I’ve been blinded like that before…by charm. By timing. By love,
that felt like truth but turned out to be dressed in denial.
Jun 1, 2025
Jun 1, 2025 at 4:34 PM UTC
quite a few severe misconceptions
hey! seriously, that's how you can summarize my life for me!
beyond the glitter, the actual bones of the beast
ugly, somehow disgusting, but they make me up, me.
i sometimes wonder, if i could be poetry
perhaps? – actually we'll scratch that.
i will be overlooked, as this usually is.
will you still write me?
no, i don't want you to write to me
or write on me – though i wouldn't mind
if i could carry it everywhere i'm ought to be.
but still –
write me. write about me.
all that i am, all that i could ever be.
there's multiple, many – oh god, a vast multitude
that i wish to talk about to any.
literally, whoever bothers to listen – and to see.
well, mainly to see, to not go over just once
and simply forget me.
i feel like – i might be a pathological liar
and a people pleaser.
but is it too wrong? wanting to be seen?
and not just as a trophy you can bag anytime,
or a passing moment, when life has you bored in its rhyme,
or even worse – someone just for the pleasure.
will you notice me?
heed to my voice and all that resides within me?
you know what. i think this was enough of 'me'.
the "almost" kind of hurts, you know.
it's always been just that.
at least for me, that's where my clock stops.
i hear about how you like me,
hear about how you want to try it out on me –
why is it always, "the almost of us"
with you & i and i & them?
why does it always have to end?
(even before it has began)
perhaps i indeed am that one tale,
kind of like the midnight rain.
they say they do cherish my existence –
but they never stay up, at least in most cases,
or bother to listen.
i can't focus, or give you my all –
i know that's a flaw at my side.
one that i wish i didn't have to follow like a rule,
settled in the hymns of my body and my life.
this, to the "almost of us" –
why do you always just... give up?
leaving me halfway,
like i'm not even worth the wait.
never did you want to know, maybe,
what really lies at the end of this race.
(will you regret, if i were to say, there weren't a lot of opponents for you to go against, per se?)
being wanted is what i've required –
to be asked for, to be known,
to be understood, not to be shown.
i hear about it in the books
and in the movies and different tales of the hues
of others’ vastly nerving stories –
how when someone likes you,
it lights up this part of you
that almost resembles the feeling of being desired – finally!
contrast is jarring though.
i see you, realize – wow, you see me too?
and yet almost always –
almost wanted, almost pursued, almost something.
and then a beautifully cherished, salty little nothing.
am i really not enough?
or did i do something wrong?
i did pay heed to your existence
even though i might have missed my own.
the unspoken loss –
one that i didn't require.
you know it hollowed me out a bit.
oh, who am i kidding –
it took all of me from me.
maybe you too liked the idea of me,
and not who’s real.
i know it is kinda messy.
at least that's how it's always been with me.
i have always had a habit
to press on those tiny little bruises –
so soft in nature, hurt a bit.
just always the right way, they hit.
i didn't even ask for you or them.
and yet –
the way you fumbled
and had me finding the sweet little nothings.
sigh, i guess i'll just admit
i want to be chosen.
there. the truth out for the world to see.
(i'll hide it to my death and never let you close to me)
i wish you'd pursued me with intention –
and not always the almost trying
only to give up before the trying even came close.
it left me crying, you know.
it's always – the spark that they leave.
never enough to light up a fire.
and then they find flaws within me.
why am i attacked, i wonder?
all i wanted was some real connection.
what of it when i scream
for all those who hear –
you have no right to drop bread crumbs
and leave me to clean them up.
i won't, as i never have.
but please, just once – notice me.
and don't treat me like an ant
like you did to others whom you've had.
everything's worth trying,
one way or the other.
everything's got a fruit waiting –
if you're willing to not just give up.
i ain't just shallow –
feel too deep.
trust me, this isn't something i've wanted.
yet you leave me with the same question,
as they always do –
why am i the one hurting,
when i didn't even ask for anything, or specifically you?
sometimes i'm afraid –
what if i'm being the particular "pick me"?
but i promise to never show vulnerabilities,
even though i speak a lot.
you might call me arrogant,
but all i've done is exist
and ask for something in return –
to cover all that i am,
all behind the makeup on the bruises of my existence.
too much, too cold, too confusing –
i ain't any of those.
but i wonder if i'm worth choosing.
some say i'm that poem
someone doesn't know they remembered
and made memories with until it's too late.
is it too petty of me
to give you such chances and options
again and again?
what's hard to digest though –
is here, the truth written in the blood of my pain,
and all the cuts that you've given me to aid.
they will forever look at me in a particular way –
and half of them who heed to me,
it'll be because they require the things
they need from the kind of me.
never has anyone asked me the questions
i wanted them to ask –
like things that shaped me,
or the ones i liked truly.
the ones i'd love, to be honest,
if it's with someone who stays.
i'd want to be with them throughout
and share those little eye contacts and loving stares.
i need depth.
want to be asked, not just seen.
maybe again, i'm asking for too much.
please forgive me.
i wore the sun for you –
yet you chose the rain.
the same rain i used to be,
but it was one during the day
and not the midnights like i usually erupted.
too much for you to handle.
i wish you'd accepted.
needed no spotlight – just some care.
someone to notice, someone to lend a shoulder.
yet left behind, almost always.
but what can i even say
when it's always been – "the almost of us."
i'll withdraw in silence,
just to be looked at the same way as any other.
might be complex, chaotic – miserly at times,
what if you indeed realize
i'm just barely anything, not even like any other?
is there any place anywhere
where i can fit –
where i belong the most?
perhaps not, perhaps the answer's a never
but i wish you'd loved and chosen me – at least once
just so for once i could feel something
other than just always being the ghost.
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 11:36 AM UTC
He once told me
he wanted to die in a place
that looked like a poem.
I told him
I wanted to live
like I was one.
We were doomed by aesthetics—
too many soft glances,
not enough spine.
He held my wrist like a snow globe
but shook me too hard.
He said I was all feeling,
no logic.
As if logic ever begged anyone to stay.
Once,
he told me I reminded him
of a girl in a painting.
I should’ve asked
what happened to her
after the gallery closed.
I used to count his heartbeats
when he slept,
just to know something
inside him still worked.
I wore my prettiest dress
to the argument—
just in case
he needed reminding
that I’m not easy
to walk away from.
He looked at me
like a cliff he might leap from
or photograph.
I stopped saying his name
and started writing
in second person.
It still felt like calling him home.
Even now,
I write you into metaphors
so I can pretend
you were never real—
just a concept,
a cautionary tale,
a ghost that rhymed.
You wanted tragedy.
I wanted truth.
We got
whatever this was.
Apr 4, 2025
Apr 4, 2025 at 10:29 AM UTC
Two souls, strangers yet familiar, cross paths in a fleeting moment—an unplanned glance in a bustling city. The air hums with a silent melody, an unspoken promise carried in a whispering breeze.
They collide in the rhythm of a passing crowd, their first words exchanged over an old, torn book at a café. She loves stories, he loves the way she tells them. Laughing, they fill the space between them with warmth, letting their hearts confess before their minds catch up.
But love, like an inked page, does not always follow the lines we expect.
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 3:01 AM UTC
It is too late to know
what it could have been
Like sand slipping through
The gaps between your fingers
Slowly running out
Time doesn’t turn
Actions pave the way
Speaking louder than words
Only thoughts are left
What if?
The unrealistic expectations
That were never fully explored
Create ridges of regret
That cannot be filled
It is too late
Is it faith speaking
Or purely the soothing words
Wanted to be heard
Acting as nothing
But comfort
In all confusion
There is something to be said
Something to be done
And another perspective
Waiting to be explored
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
It was almost like love,
Almost like your hand fits in my hand perfectly can I call you mine?
No.
It was almost like you’re the one I can phone at 3 a.m,
When the thoughts are bad and the darkness is thick
And I am drowning.
It was almost like drowning
Because your eyes
Are blue like waves that won’t stop breaking over my
Head, they leave my lungs unable to fill with anything that is not
Salt water which is what your skin tastes like.
It was almost like midnight making love and memories
Under stars that were too far away and you;
You are too far away. Too far gone. Too far
Too far from me.
It was almost like love
Almost like unearthly bond
Almost like you are one reality and I am another
But we do not mix so it is always only
Almost
And that’s what hurts the most.
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 8:59 AM UTC
how do you
let go
of somebody
you never got to hold?
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
Drudged for the gold but drawn silver
Yearned for warmth, greeted by shiver
Braved the tempest for your embrace
Awoke with heart that ran a race
Oh, Star! My Star, empyreal
Your luster is ethereal
I reached, resolved and full of hope
Lo! I gaped through a telescope!
Within arm's span but could not grasp
Stung achingly like spider wasp
A shunned love, a bursted bubble
Such pain is unfathomable
Bewildered thoughts, our hearts won't weld
Let go of things I never held
Tender soul, albeit bereft
Set free someone I never kept
And though the sun shined ever bright
All I can do for now is write
And bid the long tale to a ghost
Of a love most true, but almost
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
Your chameleon touch has made even the most familiar things remind me of you first
childhood days blanketed by you
The train tracks no longer mean days racing bikes but rather
A delayed arrival and you turning around just to wait with me and
Almost missing my train just to lay with you for another minute
I am not sure that this is how it ought to be
You taking jurisdiction over my memories because you're fickle and elusive and damaged and wonderful
*train approaching
please stand behind the yellow line*
I'm waiting; I hope you make it on time or
At least turn around again
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
You were watching me pass by
With a longing gaze kept at bay
One which captured my eye
Which to begin seemed to be innocent
You were falling for me
You were talking about a forest
which you had to take me to see
So lively and fierce with
Such beauty and simplicity
You were holding my hand
You were lying in my bed again
keeping me as close to you
As you physically could
And I let my doubts go
You were overwhelmed as I kissed you
You were holding me so tight
As the tension was building
And our hands were gliding
As our clothes met the floor
You were waiting for this
I was a different 'me' one day
And that girl speaking to you
was not the one from before
And you couldn't fix it
I was gone for too long
You are so far away
As I have broken you down
Like I told you I would
And I've ruined this for good
You are so far above me
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 10:55 AM UTC