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...
i wonder
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
Vessel
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.
Between the Lines (the words)
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.
Between the lines
Close
Start up Close to You ¬ Frank Ocean.
The closer i try to get to all that’s around me. the lonelier I feel. The hardest it seems to make friends, maintain relationships, or find anyone that values me.
And as important as self love is… sometimes I desire the love of others around me. I desire to be close to…
This Period is actually hot ass… my roomates are testing my thinning nerves. The assistant manager at work is a dictator. I used up a lot of my energy giving to others. And now I have to recharge myself alone. The four walls of my room offer no solace. My best friend is my landlord’s dog. And I appreciate her for being excited to see me everytime i go upstairs. But then I hurt more because I don’t feel that with any person.
As close as I was getting to myself these past few months. I realize i’m more disconnected than ever. I allowed myself to sustain so much damage. I don’t even recognize the fragments of myself right now. I’m shattered.
I sit and stare at the city lights. The smallness of it all amongst the BC mountains. I’m small. I’m a literal speck. This blog is my only legacy. I’m closer to God.
The Karma I’m receiving is only right. The heaviness of this reciprocity is hard to stand against.
So… as i close certain chapters and get closer to the lonely i was pre 2016
at least this time i tried to get close to something special.
And if 2024 is no new friends, and dry phones, and lonely, sleepless nights listening to my roomates alarm blare for 7 hours straight… i might just
The Knight in Rusting Armor
A knight has fallen.
I’ve been building up an appetite for standing for David.
Stepping outta the trenches of self hatred.
To reach those better days that are laid in God’s pavement.
Late payments were made of my life’s card lately.
My overdrawn balance declines and it’s finally timing to save me.
But i’m Running thinner on patience.
I lay my soul on the lines because it’s my sinners attempt at escaping.
This is every late night and every vision im wasting.
And every dream i have to pack up on the shelf that stays unboxed and untaped.
I assume the ambitions i laid will probably rotten away.
Winter’s days have me ashy as the demons im cremating.
I stood toe to toe with my devil and told him his plan was amazing.
But i’m an anime kid and every show that i watch tells me a good heart is unfazing.
And no weapon should prosper
and with the armor i plot to dress myself in there could be no penetrating.
I spent this last day making everyone else around me smile,
but i realize i spent all i got wearing my most fake of my faces.
And i don’t have the Arya bag to keep the faces from fading.
But i carry along cause these waters are worth wading.
And God’s lent strength is amazing,
and what i spend i might reap one day and if not i still gave it through grace
And… what if i’m worthy of all the things i allowed myself to forget i deserved and all the things i started to hate.
The silence in my night is noted and heard.
The parapet holding me back from collapse dissipated.
But leaving my soul on a track is how i keep my will from escaping.
And yeah im a knight in rusty armor.
Boring and safe
in the worst ways
and not good enough for one new friendship to pave way or harbor.
And no one to anchor my spirit to the realm i contemplate leaving and this shit is heavy weighted
Someone sprayed pesticide in my seedlings and now my garden needs weeding before it withers away.
Sprinting away the problems im facing.
.
And like Tanzania phase 3 i feel an itch i feel i can’t place
Whats left for a knight that has finally fallen from grace?
lonely
cue: Flight of the Navigator by Childish Gambino….
it’s lonely as fuck out this life for me huh
no truer words
no truer words tbh. Used and abused.
Destroyed and disposed.
Dream Big 