I don’t like the word ‘testimony’, because it implies you’ve arrived at the other side //
I’m not there yet, so I’ll call it my “story”, my journey, my ride //
The truth is that I’m still here in it //
The pain locked in frames, stuck in this exhibit //
For all to see, judge, pity, or despise //
Standing behind the glass, pointing while the soul cries //

I was hiding from the world so I wouldn’t be exposed //
But now I think it’s better that everybody knows //
My boundless internalizing doesn’t stop the world’s orbit //
So instead I guess I’ll spill my mind for you in this exhibit //

Let it be said that it’s not a pretty portrait //
You can’t handle the big picture, so take this messy vignette //
It’s not a work of art //
It’s a malignant heart //
It’s screaming silently as you wait for your engine to start //

How can you tell them, “I appreciate your prayers, but I need more.” //
How can I find the destination with all the closed, locked doors //
It’s an invisible battleground of dark and light //
It’s fighting wars that I don’t think we are equipped to fight //
Perhaps it’s what breaks us that frees us //
And after weeks of avoiding you, my soul cries, “Jesus” //

I beg for freedom from my heart’s museum //
It’s all too much when they can see me and I can see them //
But I fear that when I leave this place //
The demons already know my face //
And I’ll break free from the cold concrete where I sit //
And I’ll leave my darkness in this exhibit //

But can it follow me home, or will you follow me home?

One thought on “Exhibit

  1. While your words are coming from pain..hurt…they are so very powerful & I can’t know your pain or struggle please know you are in my prayers for you to have answers(?) peace(?)

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