. . . Almost

Short poem

Youssef Nadam on Unsplash

Between everything and nothing, we always stood
in the middle of it all
the almost I like to call.

We almost were.
Almost did.
Almost dared.

Too scared to say, to try and to feel.
Two steps, a jump
the puddle of uncertainty
the safer side,
the almost.

Enough to keep you hanging,
enough for you to care
but, not enough to be enough.
I’ve figured sometimes it is the almosts that hurt the most.

The forever question mark.
Uncountable scenarios
off what-ifs and words we had to swallow.
Imaginary conversations and inconvenient dreams to remind us
what could have been
what almost was
and what will never be.

Almosts last
until one decides
to make the cut.
No longer, no more.
Say goodbye to hope
say hello to loss.

Almost becomes not.