Almost, a word even more haunting than what if, 

evokes more pain than a dagger through your chest, 

she almost lived, 

they almost won, 

he almost loved her, 

they almost had a chance, 

and the blood almost stopped. 

This word, 

these six simple letters, 

they kill me. 

At two in the morning, 

at nine at night, 

and in three in the after noon. 

I know that I shouldn't, 

I shouldn't allow you to cross my mind, 

but you do. 

Every moment of the day. 

We almost made it, 

that you were almost mine, 

I was almost happy, 

almost loved, 

almost healed. 

But now? 

I wish that I could say, 

that I am almost okay. 

Almost able to function, 

and almost alive. 

But maybe, 

someday I can be, 

almost okay, again.