Yeah… I been close enough to heaven to smell the smoke, Close enough to love to choke. Almost ain’t a word — it’s a mirror that breaks slow. I almost found peace in a half-lit prayer, But the echo just coughed and left me there. Almost told truth, but it bled through my grin, Honesty hurts when it don’t let you win. Almost made friends with the scars on my wrist, But they still talk back like ghosts that persist. Almost died in a bed full of dreams, Where the needle hums lullabies between screams. Almost called God, but He hung up twice, Guess He screens numbers from sinners and vice. Almost believed that I’d change one day, But the devil in me keeps changin’ his name. Almost free — but I’m chained to hope, Almost clean — but the dirt still spoke. Almost found faith, but I blinked and sinned, Almost alive — I ain’t sure which end. Almost love, almost hate, almost home, Almost together — still dyin’ alone. Almost — yeah, that’s the ghost I chase, Livin’ on the line ‘tween fall and grace. Almost healed, but I missed the scar, That’s how I measure how close we are. Almost rich — in a broke man’s way, Countin’ regrets like bills to pay. Almost told her “stay,” but I bit my tongue, Love’s a gun that forgets it’s young. Almost sober — but the past still pours, And memory’s cheaper than liquor stores. Almost famous, but my name don’t fit, They spell it wrong every time I quit. Almost alive, but the pulse don’t hum, My soul hums songs where the light don’t come. Almost prayed, but the words came slow, God speaks quiet when the pain still grows. Almost felt joy, but it scared my chest, So I laughed like death was just a test. Almost cried, but my tears had pride, Dried in the mirror where my guilt resides. Almost ran, but the road curved back, Every exit’s just another track. Almost drowned, but the water was me, Every ripple a truth I ain’t wanna see. Almost flew, but my wings were fears, Made of paper soaked in tears. Almost touched love, but it burned through skin, Turns out warmth feels cold within. Almost forgave who I used to be, But he still writes half my poetry. Almost died — but death got tired, Said, “live a bit longer, you’re too inspired.” Almost peace, almost war, Almost closed that unlocked door. Almost human, almost divine, Stuck in a glitch between heart and mind. Almost a sinner, almost a saint, I draw halos in blood, pretend it’s paint. Almost truth, almost lie, Almost born just to learn to die. Almost saved, but the cost too high, I barter my soul for another try. Almost free, but the chain feels right, Almost blind, but I see at night. Almost gone, but I hum that song, The one that says almost means I’m still hangin’ on. Almost broken, but I make art from pain, Paint my loss on the walls of rain. Almost dead, but I still write psalms, Turn my tremor to thunder, my fear to calm. Yeah… Almost is heaven’s shadow, The place between breath and follow. If I ever make it past “almost,” Maybe I’ll finally call it home.
