15 Year Old Butta.

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Butta,

One day-

Someone is going to try to write something across you.

They will try to make it fit who you are.

You may swallow yourself. Trying to wrap your mind around what they call you.

Your mind-

is a land of knowing everything ahead of yourself.

You sometimes- will think in light years.

Ahead of your peers.

They may say “he’s different”.

You are. Auntie is too. So was grandma. Mommy. Papa.

All different. I know you process us well.

The world? Is a wondrous, wondering place, Butta.

Never force yourself to understand.

It’s better when we don’t.

Just explore. Don’t put your mind on a leash.

Never make your mind conform to what they can’t name.

Your life-

Was shaped with great intent.

Your mind was loved fully.

You are not missing.

You don’t need to be taught. Or framed. Or tamed.

Zyir- I pray you always find solace in your light years.

That you never try to call yourself by a name outside of Zyir.

They know not who you are.

In every anxious detail.

You are a sky full of grace.

I’ve seen a woman hold you tight during her final moments.

And cover you in honey.

While she cried.

Cause she knew.

You were the purest thing love had ever shown her.

So, your different-

Is beyond labels.

It is, Zyir.

In your name.

It means “God remembers.”

Oh, my Butta.

My Zyir.

My joy in a dessert of understanding.

You must remember at 15.

That you were created with great people in mind.

& we all-

Know who you are.

And hold every piece of you close.

So that we too,

Can always know-

That there is so much God in store for us.

 

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