Her waters are the oceans that I drown in.
Her waters are the pool of my baptism, saving me.
Her waters are turbulent raging waters.
Her waters are also Tilicho lake, pure serenity.
Her water drips the drop that disturb the pool of my inner peace.
One ripple that set off a lifetime of waves.
Crest and troughs defined the rollercoaster of love that she had given me.
But now I’m ready for the scary part of the drop where I start falling fast, steep and deep.
Knowing her waters will always break my fall i can only hope that they wouldn’t shatter me.
Her waters oxygenate my blood… flooding me with energy.
Her waters are the shower that cleanses my soul of depression.
Her waters carry the little glass bottle that is overflowing with God’s message.
The beauty in which her water falls is a blessing.
This must be the water the angels in Heaven sip to get themselves some refreshment.
Her water is an ice cold sip on a Bermuda summer scaffolding day.
Her water is the peace that I started to find at Black Bay.
like an old, seasoned sailor… the journey across her waters is defining me.
and my waters dance to the pull of her moon, happily caught up in her gravity.
Love Day
To the rarest one .
My source…
The fountain of my happy,
my water, my passion.
To someone truly uncommon in all the best ways.
A beauty that is unmatched.
And a talent that could never be compressed in a trap cage.
To my favorite star, shining bright in a universe of darkness.
I wanna be the biggest piece of peace that fills the caverns where your heart is.
I love you regardless.
Playing my role, and letting God guide my part in this.
You and I go together like an old locket with two parts to it.
To the rarest one.
My source…
The eye in my life’s storm.
The shore where I’m building my foundation.
You’re the reason that I’m learning to be patient.
Your smile’s my motivation.
To someone uncommon in all the best ways.
I compress waves of emotion just writing what you mean to me.
You’re the only queen to me ,
You got me on bended knee.
The only subject and thesis of my poetry.
To my favorite star, shining bright in a universe of darkness.
You’re the smartest.
What an honour it would be to spend a lifetime under the sky that your stars lit.
And to help you make a play out of the shitty hand of cards that,
Life dealt you to stop your progress.
I said I love you regardless.
Let’s get this right from now on miss.
Rainy Night Walks from Work
Counting my blessings.
I can count them on one hand but never doubt the lessons.
Raising both hands to God because I know im just his messenger.
and I ask him one question.
How do i continue to be the best for her?
As low as i am how do i step into my role as a man?
not trying to be a failure again.
I deserve the heavy karma
The heartbreak
The drama
I deserve the long nights i have no one to turn to.
i’d bare the brunt of the world if it meant her soul didn’t have to hurt too.
i honour her before you:
theres no parapet to stop the tumble into depression.
But this time i wear armor i didnt have before.
the drop won’t be as long or as bruising.
walking in the rain to get home from work has my mind spiraling loosely.
Pea(ie)ce
I’m writing back to back pieces.
i’m trying to glue her shattered soul that had shattered into pieces.
i wanna be where she lays her head at night and where she can claim that her peace is.
or rather with whom her peace lives.
so we can say peace to our heavy loads, and wash our sins away on the shores of the Sargassum sandy beaches.
so on the next laundry day, our dirty laundry has less pieces.
I long for long nights of rubbing her feet and alfredo pasta dinners.
3am became our worst enemy during the seasonal depression visits.
i have a vision of better days, but i am stilling learning how to grip em.
she’s the missing piece to completing my my life’s vivid description.
and on days like this, the smallest dips, can feel like the deepest of fissures.
how can i fill a kaiadas level low? if the top doesn't even feel like it’s it touching distance.
im growing distant from stagnant and stuck.
she’s distant from her home amongst heaven’s courts and the stars.
an empyrean angel, with her guard up.
i wanna love her until her love is soft, and she sees me as the best reflections of the heavenly father.
we not too far from high school summer mentalities.
but it’s different this time because i got you, you got me.
we’ve grown so much, our love could never catch a casualty.
i’ll pick you up or tumble with you, i got your back to face reality.
in every problem there is a poem itching to be written, is what i believe.
I wear my heart out on the page until the ink plays a metaphor for my pain leaving me.
this is for the only piece of my peace that’s unwavering.
toilet bowl blues
I love her unconditionally.
I want to redefine what i do in service of her,
So i’m relearning me.
Will no longer regurgitate ungerminated seeds,
I will prove my love through my actions and show my adoration through the words that i speak.
I will water her garden, and I will pull all her weeds.
She’s the best parts of my everyday.
I want to stand strong underneath her heavy weight.
11:11, Wishing her pain away.
Trying to wash her soul clean with my intentions to love her in Better ways.
I hope she takes the gamble to build better days with me.
I’m growing myself swiftly.
and i hope she knows that the foundation i’m building for us will never be shifting.
she’s every-good thing.
this is a thank you to God for his divine gifting.
for letting me look into her eyes and touch base with his peace.
idk what’s gotten into me lately,
but i hope the “beauty in the struggle” part
gets left behind quickly.
i want her feet kicked up,
soft, creative girl era to start a s a p.
Within.
When the Silence becomes deafening
I turn my ears towards you God.
Or maybe rather the you that lies within me.
The tiny voice that I hear and the guidance I seek.
Aligning my stars with their peace.
Trying to line up with the I and I like this was a Rasta thing.
I pray coverage over my temperament. This upcoming month I really was to focus on bettering how I react to things. I want to continue to move with love. I want to continue to challenge myself to grow. I want to be in tune with everything I want to be. I want to receive everything I desire while being able to enjoy it because I believe I deserve it. I want to grow and build with her. I want to bring her past this darkness this world surrounds her with and remind her that her place is amongst the heavens.
She’s Celestial.
She’s superlunary.
The title of my love story is “The Moon and Me”.
I plan to love her through her dark nights. Love her through her cycles. Love her “new moon” as much as I love her “full moon”. Love her crescent as much as I praise her whole. I want to help fill her until her cycle completes and she is back to the image of herself that even she can praise. She shines so bright. I sway graciously in her pull. I bask in the miracle of having got to know her. And that’s the truest way I can describe having gotten to know her. Life’s most simple yet grand pleasure. The biggest part of my everyday. So i sing her praise like a wolf pronounces their admiration of the full moon. And I hope my love fills every crater…every ‘flaw’ (cause she’s perfection to me)… every phase. Hakuna Matata.
I hope I can spirit away her problems. Lead her healing through prayer and effort. Through love and attention and safety. To love the someone as immense as the moon is no small task… But like I said earlier, I want to challenge myself. I hope she finds relief in the ways I love her. And I plan to better myself everyday.
To a better temperament all 2024.
To a girl who is Peace.
She is patiently crafted.
Perfection.
Rare. Real. Royal.
Everything.
Timeless.
You’re the moon that's plastered against my night sky.
You’re the Angel whose Northern Star I follow for guidance.
Your presence is Cosmic and inspirin'.
Let me praise your every inch and help you reach all the dreams that are packed behind your eyelids.
I’m happy that the love I have for you survived all this extra mileage.
Let me love you back to whole and praise your soul my queen/your highness.
I pray your healing to comes from the golden streets where the most high lives.
You’re the best slice of the warmest apple pie and
I love you. I love you. i love you. I’d say i do a million times miss.
~The Fewture.
Seasons Pass
My spirit changes with the seasons. But i’m hoping my soul finds the opposing effects. I hope i can grow warmer as the days get colder and darker. I sit at the spot where i’ve shed the most tears And tonight’s no easier. Everything sits heavy on my fatigued shoulders. Tonight is no easier I swear. But I welcome the zoom of passing cars that disrupts my mind’s travel. I hear the humbling nature of God’s messaging. And the only thing I would change is how much I failed these past however months. Failed to listen. Failed to provide safety. Failed to play my part.
I wanna change how lethargically I approach my days. I try to hold her up as I drown. I try to smile when I carry no happy. It literally has started to snow as I write this. Maybe there’s purity in the change I need. I need to be better to receive better. I need to listen more so I can hear. I need to heal so I can give her healing. Unconditionally. I must forgive myself. And change these dark days into passionate ways. The concrete surrounding the foot that I left stuck in my destructive ways is cracking. And a whole garden is growing. And the spring of my change is coming early. And the coldness doesn’t feel as much like home as it once was. I use to think dark days suited me best. But maybe light and love is better fashion.
I would never trade the lessons this patch of life had taught me. Never plan to lose the messaging. The newfound meaning of love I found is a blessing. And now I can share it. I can be grateful for the piece of heaven she brings to my earth. The largest piece of my peace.
She’s cosmic.
Beautiful.
Covered.
The most perfectly crafted soul.
Bounce Back: A Promise to all versions of Me.
The seasonal change is about to bring a new chapter to me.
My spirit is calming. Summer 2023 splintered my soul. I only say splintered because I caught myself right before it broke. Right before it was too much to handle.
I was living like my phone i’m ngl. If you know me know me. You would know my phone stays below 30%. And 8/10 you look at it… my battery will probably be red.
That was me… on red… but now I welcome the red. There’s warmth peaking through the coldness. The storm is breaking. All the pieces of my soul that were ready to crumble are healing like a scabbing wound. The red’s not that bad. The weather inside me is settling. My sea’s aren’t as full of rage. They’ve stopped churning and now i enjoy the ebbs and flows of my tidal range. The red feels doable. And as the leaves will start to redden around me. I feel as though my reds will soon turn green.
I would always say writing was the bests solvent. In every poem i write or post i share there’s a chance a part of me is healing. There’s a piece of acknowledgement writing gives to my struggle. There’s a piece of pain i release…
That’s why i’ve been active. I’ve needed this avenue of release more than i have since 2013.
The reunion between me and the depressive ways of 18 year old me was obviously not a welcome piece of my summer. But i view the growth i’ve gotten from this period as the most valuable lesson i could’ve learned.
Now i work to only heal not only my present self, but heal the younger me that ran away, that hid, that went unheard. I unpack the rucksack of my damage and release all excess baggage. I find blessings within the curse. I pray goodbyes to some of the most mangled pieces of the me that wander the labyrinth of my troubled mind.
My previous season was red. Red flags… Low batteries… Anger. Everything that screams STOP!
In particular I had fallen into a pattern of unhealthy comparison. And maybe that was the most natural path for my then lethargic existence. Maybe thats what my tired soul was dragging towards based on what was going on in my life. The easier way out was to self destruct.
I was scared at how disposable I was being made to feel. Distraught at how much self worth I was losing over the situations that were beating me down. I was tortured…
Not only by 3am becoming my most productive hours again. But by nightmares and panic attacks and breakdowns that I had either never went through before, or I hadn’t known past repressed memories.
I was also torturing myself.
I would sit and wonder what I was doing wrong. What was wrong with me? Why I even believed I was worth what I was telling myself I deserved.
All the feelings that the scared, lonely, weird, little boy i was growing up use to feel. All the feelings that being at the bottom of the social ladder all my life brought me. All the feelings I guess I never truly overcame.
And when they came back they came with vengeance like Kendrick’s entrance on the Heart Part 2.
One of the main reasons I stay off most Social media is because a part of me always knew that my younger self was still damaged and hiding. And I need the space to being okay with being me. Without what the apps do to my mental space.
Unfortunately, Summer 23 gave me little choice but to sit with the negative feelings of being “ Less than” anyway.
I found my demons would be Whispering all the negative thoughts that I never got to escape.
I always “just kept swimming”. I ran… I hid…
All throughout my 20s. I hid from my insecurities. I hid from God. I hid from my ambition. I hid in hopes my mediocre ways could outshine the me I was trying to forget. But then that damaged me made a 2016 Cleveland Cavs comeback.
This following image is one of the milder notes in my phone from summer.. and as raw as I’ll get with it..
I’ll let the reader fill in the blanks with what they think came next.. but just know it got progressively WAY worse the more i slid down the rabbit hole of self-Hatred.
So now… a month and a half on from that particular note am I doing better?
I’d like to think so. The comparison has died down.
I still feel alone and abandoned. More lonely than maybe I’ve ever felt. But it’s a feeling I’m allowing to drive my new found desire to get closer to a better version of me. Closer to a version that loves David Simmons in his entirety.
A version where none of me has to hide away. None of my previous chapters need to be redacted so that 28 year old me FEELS like I’m okay.
And tbh. Some days I’m not.
So I write. And I stay up as late as my mind tortures me. And when I do find solace, I still toss and turn the night away. And wake up in nightmare induced sweats. And I listlessly drift through everyday life. And my only interactions are WhatsApp messages, Good Morning to bus drivers, and hazy-minded lecture participation.
And the weight on my shoulders feels like something I’m not apt to handle.
But at least the comparison has stopped… Cause that shit will do nothing but eat me alive. And My shit is looking like its on its way to being put back together.
I’ve mentioned Hyakkimaru a good three times this week but hear me out. Something about a young man regaining stolen parts of his body by slaying demons seems fitting for me.. at this moment.. NOW. Today.
Maybe October and “spooky season” will bring a Dororo rewatch.
Once again. At least the comparison has stopped. And i champion myself for that because thats a huge fucking win. And a big step into finding myself again.
As I stood at the precipice of my downfall into the grand canyon of my depression I reached out to grab whatever parapet I could find. Fully expecting nothing to be there and for my fall to be long and harsh and bruising to my already battered essence.
And maybe by no strength of my own.. Be it big ‘G’ God … or my desire to hold strong for the one I love most in this world… I managed to grasp on to the strongest barrier of comfort I’d ever felt in my life.
The most reassuring feeling that I was strong enough to get through took over me when I was at my lowest. Something shifted in my cells. My atoms vibrated at a frequency my earthly mind couldnt comprehend. Even this very moment, writing about it I just don’t understand why God chose to comfort me, one of the fallen ones.
But more or less i felt an angelic hand was placed on my shoulder. And not metaphorically either…. I actually felt/ imagined that there was a hand in my shoulder while standing at black bay. And things in my spirit grew stronger.
And I called upon the me’s that were happy… 2016/17 me… Spring Sushi me.. even NYC trip me.
I called them to the surface and asked for their help to comfort the little, hurting, damaged boy that we were falling into again.
And we work on it. Daily…
bit by bit. Centimeter by centimeter. Statement by statement. Post by post.
Even in my shortcomings and days where I depression nap my afternoon away. There’s still some beauty to be found in this part of my journey.
There’s still no pressure to be healed right now, Today.
And i find gratitude that each day is a clean slate. Raleigh taught me that…
Each day i have a chance to reach past whatever held me down the days before. So i’m reaching.
And with every handful of life I catch in my reach… i reflect on whatever cards the universe grants me in this grand ole’ toxic ass game on Uno we call life.
As i look at the cards in my hand today… i’m excited…My grandmother Corliss always told me “play to win” …
So like Yugi i trust in the heart of the cards. And think about how i’ll start to play them….
Now this my friends. Is where the fun begins….
p.s:
Insomnia just comes with the pain, why cant you embrace it?
The nightmares will continue to plague you, just be okay with the taste of ‘em.
You just gotta remember that you’re still finding a place in this.
Empty out your expectations, and be okay with living in the “break” in the margin of the ‘make or break’ of shit
It gets easier. The winds of turbulence that troubled your summer… will turn into the winds of Grace that sail you into the beautiful blue skies of a healthier you.
Dream Big 