Late night bus rides.
My mind drifts as I watch the Abby city Lights.
Each moment a reminder that i’m lonely.

I use to view myself as such a small being.

Now i see me in the proof of God all around me.
And over Skype calls I find his peace.
And i see his divine creation in her smile.

And her teaches me though lessons through her.
And I need to show him I can still walk in his light through hurt.

I hope my wording moves her spirit.
I hope to be her anchor when the tropical storms visit.
The power needs to be in Gods hand when the broken records start spinning.
Im tryna break the cycle of bad decisions.

Im trying fill the holes where there are pieces missin.
Reaching to save all the passions and moments that got wasted in 2023.
And vowing to make it up to myself this next year.

The love I hold is rare.
Im rare too.

She’s God’s proof.
Proof of everything.

I’m grateful for the image of himself that he crafted in Her.
I waste so many rough drafts with words that heal all my cuts.

I know im broken and bruised up.
I leave whats for God for God.
And i take the healing that’s mine and move forward.
Spending my heaviest nights listening to Foreward.

And sending my prayer to her domain for her.

For we.
For us.

I'm trying to hold a safe space for a healing heart.
And share her burden on my sore shoulders.

I’m nothing in the biggest picture.
She was hand plucked from heavens court.
She was born amongst the stars.
Of course a celestial walking amongst humans may have found the journey hard.

Coding what i feel into healing words.
And toasting to peace as i experience destruction.
I know i will be led through every obstruction.

And that these words maybe aren’t my own.
But speak through me even if the message gets lost along the way like childhood games of telephone.

Breathless at the way this shit flows.
And that it still helps with recovery.
And I like the idea that you may get to meet another me.

The version that would be thriving and glowing.
Not the same old damage being that life had grown bored of you knowing.

There were times were i had to scrape faith from the bottom of the barrel.
And times when my belief would overflow.
Is it wrong to say im at 70% when in my heart of hearts i know

That running in blind is a terrible way to go.

Beautiful Waste.

There has to be some beauty it the harshest lessons. Maybe the beauty is in the new version of reality I am able to exist in. The new boundaries I know i will never allow to be broken. The newfound ability to stand up for myself. I’m done being life’s doormat. I’m done giving and not receiving. I’m done living beneath what I deserve. And I’m starting to stand strong on all that I’m worth. And I’m starting to dust of the pieces of me that were packed on the shelf. The pieces I needed to address to become whole again. I also patch back together all the damage this year done me. And realize I can still be myself through it all and that’s beautiful. But believe me it gets hard. Thinking about how dumb I am. All the pain I carry on my own. Knowing i’ve hit the end of of some of my most cherished roads. I barely make it through some nights.
Sometimes my journal feels like all that i’ve got. But i don’t forget all the strength that God lent me. I don’t forget the moon in my night sky. But who else but these pages actually knows me? Who else actually cares for me? Who else wants me to grow? Who else loves me the way I deserve and stands on that? Who else refuses to judge me at my lowest…
There really does need to be a connectedness to all thats around me for me moving forward. Gratitude for the great design. Trust in God’s lessons and his timing. Trust that i can make it through. Trust that I’m loved. I question my place often. I question what it is that God really wants from me. I question my purpose. I question why … well I’ll leave the rest for me and the journal and my iphone notes. Happy to leave this year behind. Happy for the new slate each day gives. I’m happy for the journal receiving me with open ears. Lonely Dave signing out.

We can heal together.
Build an unbreakable shield together. 
And build a jebels hut that would withstand disaster. 
I anchor you, you anchor me even in stormy weather.
Or in troubled seas. 
You're the very air i breathe. 
We can get it right in round three.
Cause the third times the charm. 
I’ll always greet your spirit with welcoming arms.
I give you flowers even in the midst of this forest fire of life.
And i’ll work the land in your garden to make sure we grow it back right.
Brian McKnight the soundtrack of the night.

We’re the same soul in two separate bodies I’m convinced.
The love I hold for her suffocates me but it a good way.
It humbles me.
It’s me and the angelic moon you see. 

How can I play peacekeeper to her heavenly district?
She’s superlunary and i love the way she wears it. 
The moon in the night sky reminds me of her spirit. 


I send my prayers up into the ether and hope she receives all I ask for her life.
Bob Marley’s “Is this love” plays in the back of my mind.

And if she’s the moon I’d love to play the earth, 
but i’d be the caught in her orbit.
The one providing light to her night if she’d let me.
The one playing the harmonic undertone of the melody of her heartstrings.
And i’d be the one that lessens the tidal range of her emotions.
Speeding up my service of her, like pit stops,
 but also loving her in slow motion.
All while learning every crater under her surface that needs to be filled.
but also letting her know the craters are what make her the celestial beauty that she is.

I promise she is the main reason that I know that God lives. 
And i one day hope she would maybe feel the same.
If not i’ll just charge it to the game, and still love her every way. 
She is a glimpse of heaven that I get to experience every damn day. 
and i’m Grateful.

I’ve been trying to listen to what the source of all is guiding me to do. Trying to find my purpose and place amongst the divine planning. Trying to execute light in all my moments. 2023 broke me. And right now…. this time of year…. i can’t find no meaning to my journey.

I’ve learned that in this life that sometimes you can give your all and it still won’t be enough. My all tends to be so insignificant to others, and that’s just life.
Idk what to do about much right now. I’m tired of being ignored and undervalued. It’s sucks being someone that finds it hard to even make just one friend. It sucks losing in love. It sucks going to work and being blamed for everyone else’s shit. 

I’m tired. I think I’m a pretty good bet in this life. I think I’m worthy. I think I have a lot to offer. But listening to all life brings back my way makes means i Know whats real rather than what I think. I’ve been embarrassing myself for a good 20 years now. 2023 you win.

I've been finding my balance in these harsher realities.


It's me n my damaged ambitions
and the smile that I wear as the farce you see. 



Some demons cannot be exorcised unless you exercise the mind to face the parts you seek...

To run away from because it's hard to carry a heavy heart that’s weak.



I’m done the unhealthy dances of playing hide n seek. 

The visions of my future use to weigh heavy, empty, cold, and bleak. 

Empty handed promises are all that life has been handing me. 

Despite me giving everything to keep myself within the right planning. 



I was too easy to abandon. 



But now i'm growing from what was damaged. 

And pruning what was left standing. 

My roots are much stronger than what you can see up on my branches. 

The heart up on my sleeve is being stitched back together strand by strand. 

My next steps are branching past all that defines me from my past. 

And i'm passing the torch from the younger me who could barely manage. ..

to a growing and healthy man with patience temperament and good manners. 



This attempt the be more than my self limitations matters. 

And i’m grateful for all matters that shaped me as i move towards the fewture that i'm crafting. 



And molding. 



And the promises in love that i’m upholding. 

And to finding meaning even when i feel i’m at my smallest. 



Somedays the heartbreak weighs heavy i guess. 

I carry the weight of the world on my chest. 

And at these hours there’s no one to vent to but God. 



Developing the messaging in the midst of the damage is hard. 

But we gon get through it, even if the bumps and the bruises looks harsh.


Just gonna keep writing until i receive what’s written in the alignment of my stars 

Better from my atoms having collided with her heart. 

Thanking God everyday for the timing to experience his Sistine chapel level art. 



I get to see him in her Eyes and know his guidance through the part. 

She played in answering every prayer that i keep secret and the ones I say out loud. 



Somethings you know right from the start. 



And i’m starting to see A better ending for me even as things settle heavy and lonely. 

I know these lines are helping me find the silver lining in things. 



Aligning my spirit 

Hoping my lyrics reach the God within me. 


I’m outgrowing keeping silent when I’m upset 

I’m redefining my peace. 



Holding the mirror to myself ; hoping to see what i see 

when i see her. 



Trying not to plant any seeds while im hurt. 



Learning what battles are my battles and whats for God. 

Learning to find balance in moments i just need to shut up. 



Tired of GCSE level lessons and tough love. 



I hope to get it right this next year, I’m tired of wasted hours on my life’s punch card. 

Take me back to summer '22. 


I'm sure it was a better time for me.


The call of new adventures and the pull of the me unseen. 

Eyes gleaming at the possibilities of new slates and I am not talking limestone roofing.

I'm talking the opportunity to chase everything I ever wanted 
and to be able to do it loosely.



All the daydreams I dreamt while wading in the mid Atlantic blues...

Running from the pain I forgot I knew.



And now 2024 lurks like Gargamel.

And all the damage done by the blues of 2023 made it hard to tell

if i would make it through to see those mid Atlantic blues ever again.



I know the blues like reminiscing on expeditions and parting friends.

I know me and my damaged soul were shaking hands 

and knocking over barriers that kept us stuck on the shoreline and eroding sands.

Because now it was sink or swim for Simms.



Was i gonna fall victim to the damage or was i gonna start seeking wins?

And start to float atop the mid Atlantic blues that were seeping in... 

And like a lie-low I could see through all blues that were beneath me and
were keeping me in 

Patterns that would leave me stuck up in my shattered ways... 



The mid Atlantic summer blues had me reframing every inch of my battered being. 

And seeking proper ways to heal in search of better things. 

And finding the better in the things that had stolen my will to carry on 
like I realized two peoples of baggage were still to much to hold onto as i stepped into carrier plains.


To fly high above the mid Atlantic blues hoping I could leave them behind for good this time. 

But not in a shameful way like they didn't make me the me I was becoming ,

But in a way that's like its more to life than staying stuck up in a place that seemed like it had to be forced to love me.


Out of all the painful lessons this year has taught me. 
The ones that sting the most I'm still uncovering:



this year has taught me... 
that I am replaceable and I had to come to grips with that. 
that I'm a doormat and people don't mind using me and stepping over me, so I have to develop that. 
that maybe making one friend in Canada isn't meant to be? 
that I'm alone all by myself with no one to care for me.
that David goes unseen.

but it is okay. 
I give my all in everything, 
and now I express my gratitude for toxic bondage loosening....
I hope those Mid Atlantic blues know that they saved me. 
when i had nobody else to hear my cries...
deep at night... 
my pain still cuts me deep inside...

sometimes i wonder if anyone needs me. If anyone ever cries for me. Or loses sleep over me. If i motivate anyone. If i’m as important to someone as others are to me. I wonder. And i’ll never know

The pen plays vessel to my healing.
The appeal of my layers peeling
has younger me gleaming at the version of me he’s been seeing.

It’s apparent to me that sometimes the weight of the world has me bursting at the seams.
But i’ve found so many vessels in the little things, that play therapy to the damaged me.
And in turn I tried to share that with her, and I could only hope that she sees me.
For all i was bringing and that she could find healing in all of my words and decipher their meanings.
And love herself the same way I try to love her entire being.
It’s me and this blog against the world for the rest of 2023.

Just Charge it all to the dirty ass game of life. Everybody plays the fool.


The strength was god given.

The lesson in between the lines was heavy hearted 
And hard hitting. 

It was written in the stars 
I was tryna heal her heart like scar tissuh.

I Was hard headed 
… the karma has me staring at the stars wishing. 

For better days to visit me like passport stamps 
or Elise when Dalton starts drifting.

The demons be waiting for me to fall asleep 
cause nightmares the only time they can catch my hardened heart slipping.

My calloused grip had blistered. 
Like grueling days where my only noise was the metal from the scaffold banging & lifting.

Lengthening my switch to flip to close fists or quick quips
Because I'm learning that the sins of my past don't have to define my fewture visions.

The mold of my future's different.

Like Mahito got the shape of my soul shifting.

The worser parts I learn to sift 'em. 

Dirty back the epithet that had my inner child whimpering.

2am my brudduhdem 
I wonder if my coin would still land in the second pond! 
or if my poisoned heart would have my cosmic cards shiftin'.

No Vegas tricks though... it's me, the pad, and a Hail Mary hoping that God listens.

I throw a prayer to the night sky knowing I deserve the muted responses and 'learning it the hard way' 
Because of faithless days I ran from God trippin.

I stand toe to toe with the deepening legion of demonic chart listings.

Like do I shine so bright that you really gotta go this hard to get him?

I'm hard to replace but even harder to destroy 
I know they wanna see my light start to dimming.

I know they wanna se my patience start to fissure.

But i refuse to give the lowest creatures the satisfaction because I'm starting to feel a little stitious. 
That if I lose myself again it may be hard to stich it... 
Back together one last time 
To give it all one last try
The ending of this chapter maybe just has to go unfinished.
And as a writer that may just be my biggest fears 
so I hope nobody hears this. 

Like “whats good world” when does the light creep back in amongst the darkest pictures? 
This Game of Thrones season 8 but i wanna season 6 when every part was hittin.

The Kurapika lamp illuminates the tension as words start to sentence. 
The cosmic sequence of my karmic sentece makes my smile harder to wear it 

I Picked my heart of the floor and realized that certain parts were missing.
Or left behind with sections of my life that tear blotched ink had started blended..
Into the Page my therapy and poetry start to flow in tandem.

I wonder if anyone could help me redefine the description ?
Of if imma be another shattered young man thats left defenseless. 
I'm no longer straddling fences.
I'm making real decisions 
So meet me where I'm at or find yourself another victim.
That's the 2024 mantra and I'm standing tall on bidness.



We in dis.

My pen and my therapy flow in tandem
I let the pain flow into the pad as I free myself of a damaged past.
Looking forward to a better path.