I wasn’t planning to write today. Honestly, I thought I’d take the night off.
But then I came across another writer’s poem where every line began with “I almost,” and something in me screamed a little.
The words started pouring out before I could even think twice about them.
This piece is nonfiction. (Up until the paywall)
Every line is pulled from some version of my real life, the messy parts, the painful parts, the moments I barely made it through, and the woman I became because I did.
Once I started writing, I couldn’t stop.
So welcome to this week’s Teezy Tastes. A little raw and vulnerable. And maybe the truest thing I’ve written in a minute.
I almost gave up before dawn.
I almost stayed where I didn’t belong.
I almost wore pain like a second skin.
I almost let the dark cave in.
I almost loved with an empty cup.
I almost broke and never got up.
I almost silenced my own wildfire.
I almost buried every desire.
I almost believed I was too much.
I almost forgot the power of touch.
I almost let grief rewrite my name.
I almost turned cold from all the blame.
I almost disappeared in survival mode.
I almost collapsed beneath the load.
I almost stopped reaching for the light.
I almost surrendered every fight.
I almost didn’t become where I stayed.
I almost don’t define the woman I became.
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