Almost Real
You’re what I see in front of my eyes,
but you’re not real—
out of reach,
not always there.
You make me feel,
but I can’t touch you.
You make me choke
without using your hands.
A tease
running through my head.
Meaningful words on paper
write stories in my brain.
Art that bleeds
and leaves a stain.
You’re on repeat
like a heartbeat.
Won’t you sing that song again?













