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Poem
She's lived a lot of "almosts"

She almost drowned under the pulsing weight 
of the river's temperamental waters when she was 12

Later on, she felt time itself suspend as she spent 
her last few seconds wondering if death would
take her quickly, while her car spiraled down the I-50, 
barreling off the ice-ridden road at a deadly 80 mph 
into a ditch.
But it didn't

She could have died riding top speed into the back of 
a jeep, but walked away from it, granted it took her memory

Deep into the sweltering heat of the desert, 
she nearly escaped the strike of an infant rattlesnake,
and walked away, unharmed, after slipping off
the beautiful sandy red rockscape 

In spite of all these "almosts"
the most dangerous time of her life
was when the escape of sleep continuously escaped her,
and her body could no longer regulate its own temperature,
among several other things,
including hunger, so she didn't eat a single thing for months
while the tube down her pencil-thin throat continuously
fed her, forever, it seemed, since none of the doctors
could tell her what was wrong.
That was the worst of all - not knowing - 
and the most dangerous of all
because it left room for possibilities, probabilities
and contingencies that only proved to be mere fantasies

Over and over
  Over and over
    Over and overrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

And over

A cycle which holds space for only one capacity - insanity.
Indeed, the most dangerous "almost" of her life was when
hope not merely left her, but became her enemy,
and her dreams of not only finding relief, but of coming
to an understanding of the reality that was haunting her
slowly fermented into a continual round of "almosts" 
and, finally, in the madness, one round almost hit her
when she almost took her life.
That was almost the last "almost" of her life

These days she continues to daydream of finding answers,
and reaching a full recovery
as she learns how to wrestle with the desperately fickle
personality of uncertainty and "almosts"
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