Almost Ours

You felt like a story I’d known before,

But I never got to read the ending.

A familiar soul in a stranger’s face,

A heartbeat I’d only heard in dreaming.

We never touched the word love,

Never close enough to claim it—

But something in the air around you

Made the world fall silent when you came in.

You were inches apart, my soul would ache,

Too far away for my hands to take.

And maybe that’s the truth, the bittersweet art—

Some connections break before they start.

You showed me how deeply I could feel,

For someone who was never real,

For someone who was never mine,

But felt like home in another life.

Your presence felt like a place I’d known,

The safety of a doorway I couldn’t go through.

A warmth I could only watch from afar,

A fire I was never meant to move to.

Maybe it lived only in my head,

A delusion stitched from stolen glances—

But it felt so real, I still taste the silence,

Every time I think of lost chances.

You were inches apart, my soul would ache,

Too far away for my hands to take.

And maybe that’s the truth, the bittersweet art—

Some connections break before they start.

You showed me how deeply I could feel,

For someone who was never real,

For someone who was never mine,

But felt like home in another life.

We were always almost, never enough,

Living on the edges of a fragile trust.

Maybe love’s not meant to be kept,

But to teach us what’s inside our chest.

You were inches apart, my soul would ache,

Too far away for my hands to take.

And maybe that’s the point, the reason, the scar—

We’re always haunted by what was almost ours.