Almost Poems - Poems about Almost

I let lust lead. So when I speak on this, I’m not guessing. I’m not judging. I know what it does. It rips your heart. Messes up your mind. Twists how you see people how you see yourself. It cages you. Makes you smile in public but cry in secret. Makes you feel too dirty for grace. Too broken for mercy. Too far for forgiveness. And the worst part? It makes...

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The day I let *********** in... I didn’t even know what I was letting in. I was just a curious boy 11, maybe 12 scrolling one evening. One video. One image. One pop-up. One “harmless” click. Boom. That was the beginning of the shadows. They say curiosity killed the cat — but they never said it could kill the conscience too. It started small: Late nights under blankets, volume...

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I passed you on my path by chance, by the bench where we once sat with hands and hearts entwined. You looked on through me as if I were the fading apparition you left when you said goodbye. Your eyes saw past the flame of hurt, that dying love ember left behind as though you felt things that I did not. Your head and...

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I can’t believe you’re not in the world anymore. It’s like someone turned off all the lights And the world went home. The party, prematurely cut off— Your face contours etched into my biology. I feel you in every empty space, Every pregnant pause. You are the words I’ve forgotten, The car keys I lost. You are the second before I wake up, My fevered...

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In California, in the year nineteen thirty-nine, at Culver City, a movie studio was fine. Metro Goldwyn Mayer was the largest company. They produced the best motion pictures people could see. Early in the year, they would make a large announcement. A musical would be their next big accomplishment. Based after L. Frank Baum’s turn-of-the-century tale, president Louis B. Mayer hoped it...

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There was a time your name felt like a beginning— a gentle unfolding of everything soft in a world that had grown too loud. You weren’t just someone I loved. You were a season. A chapter where the pages turned slower just to make it last. We were never chaos, never fire. We were rain on windows, late-night playlists, hands brushing in silence. Almosts wrapped in always. Goodbyes hidden...

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I saw you before you saw me. Still walk the same. Still carry the world like it owes you something. And just like that— a flood of years came rushing through a single glance. We hugged. God, that hug. Longer than polite, shorter than what I needed. We sat, coffee between us like a buffer, but your eyes still knew too much. You made me laugh. Too easily. Like my body remembered what...

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there's a movie i used to watch over and over as a kid it's why i love old glass and putting flowers in coke bottles there's a tooth on my bottom row that sticks out you told me it was cute that's why i stopped asking my dad for braces i have a friend who used to...

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pulchritudinous rhymes with ‘She makes food for us’ ~ well, almost… ...

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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...

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Youthful Israeli embassy couple, almost engaged, gunshots fired in the May DC eve, murdered sweethearts, hate, it never pauses, almost had hope, shalom to the world. ~...

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A soggy teddy bear lay on the shoulder of the highway— head twisted, limbs askew, its damp fur clinging to gravel and its sightless eyes beseeching heaven. I watched from the backseat, wondering if it was dropped in sorrow or thrown in rage, or left behind after something that didn’t leave anything else. Two women in white nightgowns ran across their front lawn on a frosty full...

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. oh my did y'all hear that 'twere thuh soft uv ...

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She was a good dog but at times she could be a , like the way she would look back when I called her with a certain demeanor, perhaps borrowed from my ex-wife. I wonder sometimes about old souls, animal spirits and all the other confusing mishmash that folks fall back on when a dog looks at you as if it were taking you for...

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It’s almost morning, but not quite. Which is the time of day I enjoy most. I’m amazing, and kind, and whatever is on my mind. There’s grass underneath me. If I head west, there’s only concrete and potholes. The grass parts way. I danced a bit too much. Like a dancer does. A wishing well. I fell...

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