Share This Post

Art and Poetry

ALMOST

almost

I woke up blinded

Reminded of your smooth words and the thought of you

4:14 a.m. most of Toronto’s still sleeping

Laying here wide awake, I’m lucid dreaming

The only place where I let things go, with some degree of my control

Baby, these days love has different meanings

A few months pass and it was nothing more than demeaning to you

Maybe I shouldn’t have let myself walk in

Maybe my values were too old fashioned

Since when did being passionate become mistaken for trying too hard?

Remember when we only had land lines, to reach me you would show up

at the front of my yard

Nowadays I would be lucky if a man like you would send me a text,

throws one off guard

To think technology would make communication easier

I cannot see over this barrier

“Girl, I think you need to let it go,” my friends reassure me

How can I let go when I was holding on to nothing but uncertainty?

I held on to the possibility of what we call “almost”

Now I’m thrown on the sidelines, I still play for your team

Summertime, holding an ice-cream cone of Neapolitan

So, close I can almost taste you as I unveil the different layers

You had your eyes on several different women, a different day, a different flavour

My love was never yours to savour

Was not one to pray everyday though I could have been your saviour

As soon as you knew I cared for you, you changed your behaviours

Except you did not need saving, you needed someone relating to you

One who does not underestimate you

I had this transparency, I was almost see-through

Guess you never thought about what you put me through

You were open to seeing parts of me, never what lies beyond the surface

Questioned if you were good enough

Funny how you always had the ability to make me nervous

First time showing up at my front door, leaving me wordless

I connected with you like letters written in cursive

Now I’m here by myself again, lying here restless as my eyes begin to strain

I had to dig deeper than six feet to find what remains of me

I let go of my shovel once I found the parts that were not decayed

Had to quit overthinking the reasons why you left when you could have stayed

Tell me I changed. Your perception of me has

Either way it is a shame if I were to remain the same

What is love? Hard to define in this generation

Nowadays I see people rushing on commitment for their own financial gains

Find something that sustains you

Acting as if life is always well put together will only take you and drain you

Believe me, I know, when you have too much pride you become afraid to let it show

If you saw me in the street you would not recognize me

Hell, it took me long enough to prioritize me

 

Author: Jennifer Kriski
Email: kriskijennifer@gmail.com
Author Bio: Toronto girl. Born and raised. You’ll find her by the Lakeshore, holding a book or a film camera.
She lives for camp fire stories, writing poetry, and churros.
Link to social media or website: http://instagram.com/jenniferkriski

 

almost

Share This Post

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

Lost Password

Register

Share This
sensation
sensation
sensation
sensation