David Stewart

gamer, sports enthusiast, music lover and writer of fiction stories, publishing as J.D. Vesper

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

I mean Chris is not wrong 😬

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

3/3
Read No Rest in the Dark now on Ink & Silence:

https://t.co/6HA2n04pyf

“I want sleep to be gentle again.
I want dreams that do not arrive dressed as warnings.”

#GriefPoem #Haibun #OriginalPoetry #InkAndSilence

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

1/3
No Rest in the Dark

A grief haibun about the nights when sleep no longer feels safe — when dreams stop comforting you and memory waits in the dark.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

2/3
This piece explores grief, insomnia, loss, and the way mourning can follow you into the one place you once went to rest.

Sometimes the hardest part of grief is not surviving the day.

It is surviving the night.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

Read here!

https://t.co/Y63X9nq7P5

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

1/3

There is a part of me I keep beneath the floorboards.

Not because it is evil.

Because it remembers.

Every wound.
Every betrayal.
Every time I swallowed fire and called it patience.

🖤 New poem:
The Part of Me With Teeth

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

3/3

Maybe the goal isn’t to kill the rage.

Maybe the goal is to give it a language that doesn’t destroy you.

A page.
A prayer.
A boundary.
A voice that says, clearly, no.

The Part of Me With Teeth

#poetrycommunity #shadowwork #healing #writersoftwitter

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

3/3
Read Where Do I Begin With Gone? now on Ink & Silence:

https://t.co/319XobIQrn

“Grief does not line up politely.
It does not wait its turn.
It floods the room.”

#GriefPoem #ProsePoem #OriginalPoetry #InkAndSilence

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

1/3
Where Do I Begin With Gone?

A prose poem about grief after the death of a loved one — when sadness, anger, guilt, numbness, and loneliness arrive all at once, and even the smallest parts of the day feel impossible.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

2/3
This is not about moving on.

It is about the kind of mourning that has no clear beginning.
The kind no one truly understands unless they have lived inside it.

One breath.
One hour.
One unbearable day at a time.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

3/3
“I was carried away.
I was changed.
I am still here.”

Read A Country Made of Water now on Ink & Silence:

https://t.co/DeCt1YXmbh

#ProsePoem #OriginalPoetry #GriefPoetry #InkAndSilence

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

1/3
A Country Made of Water

A haunting prose poem about grief, exile, memory, survival, and the search for home after loss changes everything.

For anyone who has ever felt displaced inside their own life.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

2/3
There is a kind of leaving that does not require a door.

Sometimes home becomes unfamiliar.
Sometimes memory turns into water.
Sometimes survival means learning to stand among your missing pieces.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

3/3
And sometimes, that is enough to take you home.

Read The Road Beneath the Candles now on Ink & Silence

https://t.co/ujeuxT3GnA

#OriginalPoetry #ProsePoem #InkAndSilence #PoetryCommunity

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

1/3
The Road Beneath the Candles

For the artists, storytellers, musicians, performers, and keepers of wonder who remind us that beauty does not have to last forever to matter.

A love letter to the road, the stage, and the temporary magic of belonging.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

2/3
The theatre of wonder is temporary.

The performers are passing through.
The candles will go out.
The instruments will be packed away.
The road will call again.

But for one shining moment, everyone is gathered beneath the same spell.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

a poem about movement through darkness —
and the terrifying realization that not every path leads home.

https://t.co/dvMgOYV8zn

#GriefPoetry #FreeVersePoetry #PsychologicalPoetry

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

there are certain losses that do not simply hurt you.

they alter the geography of who you are.

[David Stewart @th3RealDavidS]

“Not All Roads Return the Traveler” is a free verse poem about grief, memory, emotional exhaustion, and the long psychological road people travel after death changes them forever.

not a poem about healing.