I come from a background where so many people have wandered in and out of my life, speaking to, at, over, and into me and my journey. Some negative and some positive. Some curses and some blessings. Some false and some true. I really struggled with comprehension and gaining a proper understanding of their impact. It wasn’t until I listened to the small whisper and discovered my own narrative, that I was able to “chew the meat and spit out the bones” of what occurred in the past and come out of it a better person.
So, cheers to the struggle, the discoveries, and the journeys this life has brought me. I am proud of myself because I did everything everyone said I never could. I became everything I’m not to truly become everything I am and will become…Now, I can add self taught “Writer, Poet, & Author” to my resume. Except, this isn’t just what I do but, a part of who I am. This dream is now a reality. I have seen something spiritual become physical and manifest it’s blessings to those around me.
My first poetry collection - ETHEREAL LOVE by Kid Gills - coming really soon.
There was a plan. There had always been a plan. For as long as I could remember, I had everything all figured out - until it wasn’t. Every details was perfect. Every area was noted. Nothing could go wrong as long as I stuck to the plan. I was going to be okay. Everything was going to work out fine - until it didn’t, of course. I don’t even know what happened. I can’t pin point a specific moment where things just fell apart. I just know one moment, I was in the prime of my life, living it up. And, the next moment, everything around me was dark and crumbling to pathetic ashes. What happened to the plan? What happened to following every single detail on the list? What happened to seeing it all through until the end? I had a plan. I was supposed to stick to the plan. I was okay. Everything was going to be fine - until it wasn’t. I had everything under control. I had finally gained my freedom. I was comfortable in who I was becoming. I was confident in my ability to maintain. The world was in the palm of my hand. I had a plan. I had a solid plan for my life…or so I thought. I guess life had other plans for me because this plan that I created…yeah, it’s not going to work out. It’s ruined. And, to my own surprise…I’m not sad about. I’m relieved. Maybe, the plan was supposed to get ruined in order for me to plan my next adventure, afterwards. Because, there was a plan. There has always been a plan.
I know a lot of this doesn’t make sense. Your mind can’t even fathom nor begin to comprehend. Yet, I pray the conditions of this world and it’s ways, won’t harden your heart nor steal the humanness, love, & warmth that keeps you alive & well. We need more humans & less robots…
I won’t be afraid to begin again. The unknown & uncertainty of life may hit me, stop me, & make me question things; but, I won’t miss my opportunity to reestablish my self, trust my new beginning, & rebuild my foundation. I’ll take a chance on myself, just as I did everyone else.
There will be days when you’ll remember and days when you’ll forget. There will be days when you can feel it and days when you are numb. There will be days. So many days. Each one - a little better or worse. But, my sweet darling, there will be more days. And, that’s the blessing…
Most days, I don’t feel good enough. Sometimes, I feel inadequate. Like, no matter what I do or say…it just won’t make sense. People won’t get it. They don’t get me. They never understand. Most of the time, I feel invisible. Not noticed or seen. I fade into the background and dwell amongst the shadows of everyone else surrounding me. My voice is soft and timid. I have no tone. My words are the sweetest whispers only a few who are close to me can hear them. I scream in painful agony, silently. Trying not to burden anyone with my baggage or being. But, sometimes…I need help. I shrink and feel small amongst crowds, so…I try not to take up too much room when I fit into where I belong. Even when cozy and nestled close in my position and role. I still feel alone. I still feel as if I don’t belong. As if, I am unworthy to be in this place. As if, I am undeserving to be where I am. As if, I should be ashamed of being who I am. But, sometimes…I need space. It’s exhausting and I am so tired. I need someone to talk too. I’m tired of changing. Tired of adapting. Tired of pretending. Tired of denying these feelings as if they don’t come from something deeper. I need someone to save me. This is broken. This is dysfunction. This is anger. This is sorrow. This is despair, grief, depression, rage, and confusion. This is a slow painful death to a person I love but, lost so long ago. I need for you to care. This is me. Breaking down to ashes. But, I won’t stay down here too long. I promise. I need to rise up and start over. This is my recovery to freedom…
Darling, I see you busting your behind to get where you’re going. That hustle is in your blood, that grind is in your bones and that ambition is in your spirit. You’re always quiet but, your actions speak louder than words. You stay to yourself and keep everything on the low. You hate a audience cause you’re not trying to put on a show. You go to work. You get a bag. You never say much to the world. But still, I noticed your voice. I see your stance. You growing up and maturing over time, you’re becoming grand. Can’t say I’m not proud of you, I am, I can’t lie. I believe in you. I know your future’s bright. I’m rooting for you. Keep your eyes on the prize. You got this. Ain’t no need to deny your greatness. You better own it because I know you’re in-control of it. Be yourself and embrace you. Love yourself or no one else will. You’re healing the wounds, breaking the curses, and ridding yourself of your chains. You’re rebuilding yourself and recreating the life you always wanted. I’m so glad to see you succeeding, after being told you’ll never make it. You’ve done beyond that. I salute you! It’s all love, kid. I see you.
In the midst of trying to love myself, am I trying to love someone else? I tried this before and it didn’t work out. Should I do it, again? I’ve picked up majority of my shattered pieces. With a little bit of super glue, I’ve managed to put this heart of mine back together. It’s not perfect nor does it look like the norm but, it works and functions as purposed. No strings attached, it hasn’t been sown to my sleeve or unraveled by anybody. However, it’s chambers are still full and being cleaned every moment. I know it’s alot to consider and even more complicated to ponder but, I have to find an answer before I die of fear or embarrassment. Will hurt win and triumph over me with it’s scornful gloats? Or, is it possibly for me to sanely indulge in the life of others in pure joyful bliss while accepting new love through a dream of life’s best? This is the question left existing in me…
So not only does M feel real, genuine guilt over what went down at the bakery, but when they attempt to distract themselves from this guilt by switching to more enjoyable thoughts of the detective (i.e. sexual), they can’t even do that because the only things filling their mind are soft as hell daydreams about the detective’s smile, laugh, and the way their eyes light up?
And you expect me not to go absolutely feral upon witnessing this?
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