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I stare up at the darkness of the ceiling.
Sleep avoids me and keeps stealing,
Stealing my hope of finding dreams.
Let me dream, let me see, let me rest.
I can’t stop thinking about loss.

I hear the voices in my soul,
They travel up into my throat.
The words leave like nasty bile.
I run away before I stand trial.
Hide beneath excuses and justifying.
“Peter, I hate you!”

This side of myself I try to avoid.
It’s the side that gets easily stressed,
It’s the dark side that thinks about death.
Who would I be if I let myself go?

The questions that come up are dangerous,
But it always makes me more thankful.
What is leaving and who’s still here?
My loss of feeling and my fleeting guilt.
Can I gain, or is this how I’m built?
A constructed robot or a puppet?

Could it be more than just my obnoxious head?
Are these walls a shade of green or red?
Is there something sinister inside?
I’m just an insecure delinquent is all,
Just a dirty pervert and a black-handed cheat.
Someone you should avoid on a narrow street.

I live on; fine scents of the guilt linger,
Trying to hide my filthy, grimy fingers.
I’m efficient at faking, I don’t know the real,
So you lie and say that I’m normal.
It’s fine that you scream in your sleep.
It’s fine that you let yourself go deep.
It’s okay that you cry.
“Peter, I HATE you!”

Don’t turn away when I speak.
Please listen to my sleepless musings.
Distract me from what I’m losing,
I can’t see the end from where I’m at–
Is that on purpose or accidental?
Is this body mine or just an expensive rental?
I’m a broke, homeless man who sits around–
He begs for a dollar, a nickel, a word?

I try to drown out what they say, it says, I say.
I can’t stop the nasties and foul mouth;
The words penetrate my skin; I can barely move.
Didn’t The Word say that you will know them by their fruit?
This fruit is sour and mealy, not suitable for eating.
Should I continue to consume what he feeds me?
Or could I really be free from him?

Distract me from his raspy voice in my ear.
He tells me to shut up and keep it inside.
He feeds me thoughts of me without God.
Would I be a violent soul, lost and destroyed?
Would I seek to bring light to a world empty of joy?
Would I seek to fit in and act normal?
Would I find a girl and break her heart?

Just talk to me, or scream, or laugh!
Keep me through the night!
I can’t hold on for long.
WIll I swim without you, or will I sink?
Will I die, or will I just think?
Can I afford to let myself cry?

6 Replies to “him.”

  1. This is raw. Thank you for sharing it. It’s encouraging to see other people like me– there is hope for us. ❤️

  2. I’m glad that the Lord give you the gift of writing to be able to express your heart.
    Like a mom that I’m, I want to hug you and tell you how much valuable you are to our Father. Praying that you can hear Him whispering the truth in your ear every night and all day long 😊🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

  3. Obviously, as your father, I hurt for you and want you to know I am there for you. Like I said to Jason, I am so proud of both of you for how courageous you are for being willing to let your heart be out there for all to see. You have more company on this journey than you even know but as people read your posts they find out they are not alone either.

    I want to encourage anyone that reads this post that doesn’t think they have the talent or opportunity to open up as Jason and Peter and the other contributors here do to share with someone in your life the hurts and pains you are going through. If you feel like you have no one, reach out to either of these guys and let them know. We all need to bring “light” to the dark places in our thoughts and hearts so God’s light can illuminate those dark places and eradicate them.

    Good job, Peter! Keep it up!

    1. Thank you Mr. Pete, both for your encouragement to Peter and me and your invitation to our readers. Even from the very beginning, one of the goals of Awkward Truth was to inspire people to open up more in their own lives and share the awkward. I second everything you said.

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