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?