I have been building things
with hands that know
the clock is running.
Stories from memories,
colors from places
I may never see again,
pieces of myself
pressed between pages,
brushed onto canvas,
sent out into a world
that may or may not notice.
I tell myself it matters.
Some days,
I even believe it.
But lately,
everything feels like almost.
Almost finished.
Almost recognized.
Almost enough.
Another door closes.
Another expense arrives.
Another promise becomes
another thing to wait for.
And I am so tired
of waiting.
I have spent money
I cannot replace,
hours I cannot reclaim,
hope I cannot seem
to stop giving away.
And every disappointment
lands on the same tender place
where fear has already
made a home.
I am afraid
I will run out of time
before I finish
what I came here to do.
But I am just as afraid
I will finish it all,
set it carefully
before the world,
and hear nothing.
No applause.
No echo.
Not even the quiet assurance
that something I made
found its way
into someone else's heart.
People tell me
to look at what I've accomplished.
I do.
I see the books.
The paintings.
The words.
The evidence
that I have been here,
that I have tried.
But I also see
the empty spaces
where I hoped
something more would grow.
And I hate
that I need it to matter
to someone besides me.
I hate that gratitude
and disappointment
can occupy the same breath.
That I can be proud
of what I've created
and still feel
like I am failing.
That I can love this life
and be so terribly tired
of fighting for it.
There are days
when I want to put
everything down.
Not because
I have stopped caring.
But because
I have cared
so fiercely,
for so long,
that even hope
has become heavy.
And still,
tomorrow,
I will probably pick up
the brush,
the pen,
the unfinished page.
Not because I am brave.
Not because I am certain.
But because somewhere
beneath the exhaustion,
beneath the fear,
beneath the unbearable weight
of almost,
there is still
a part of me
that wants to leave
something beautiful
behind.
And I don't know
whether that is enough.
I only know
that I am trying.
God,
I am trying.
- Leslie Berg, October 2026