Almost

I still keep the key where you left it,

like I don’t know how to throw it away.

Thought I knew what forever meant,

but now forever’s just something people say.

You held me like I was your always,

but your always came with an ending.

You said love, but love shouldn’t

feel this much like pretending.

And I replay every moment

like it could change if I just tried—

but the truth won’t rewrite itself,

no matter how many times.

We were almost something holy,

almost something true,

almost found a forever

in the shadow of you.

But almost doesn’t save me

when I’m lying here alone.

We were almost everything,

but almost can’t be home.

I still dream about the moments

that made your world feel like mine.

Even the quiet stuck to me,

like echoes I can’t leave behind.

But loving you was borrowed time,

a house I could never keep.

You built me walls of maybe,

then buried me underneath.

I still search for reasons

that could make it make some sense,

but almost isn’t comfort—

it just cuts like consequence.

We were almost something holy,

almost something true,

almost found a forever

in the shadow of you.

But almost doesn’t save me

when I’m lying here alone.

We were almost everything,

but almost can’t be home.

Maybe in another lifetime

we don’t break like this.

Maybe in another lifetime

forever actually fits.

We were almost something holy,

almost something true,

almost found a forever—

but forever wasn’t you.

Now I’m piecing back my pieces,

learning how to stand alone.

We were almost everything,

but almost can’t be home.

Almost…

Almost can’t be home.