Sam & I AM

I heard its breath before I slept, a shadow crawling where secrets are kept. It fed on my silence, it drank my fear, a whisper that grew till it screamed in my ear. I ran from the footsteps, but they followed me still. Through locked doors to my soul, they bent to their will. I fought what I feared, but I lost in the chase, the monster’s reflection became my own face. Its hunger was sharp, its grip was tight, it clothed me in chaos, it crowned me at night. The prey I had been was the predator grown, the monster I feared had become my own. I wore its heartbeat under my skin,
its voice became prayer, its breath became sin. I danced with the darkness, enjoyed it even, unaware this nightmare would lead straight into Freedom. 

Now I sit with the mirror, afraid of the glass, peeling away what I thought was my mask. Each scar on my skin, each tear I feel fall, reminds me I am human, not a monster at all. I am learning to breathe without hearing its name, to look at myself without drowning in shame. If He calls me chosen, cherished, and free, then maybe there’s beauty still buried in me. The hardest fight isn’t teeth or the claws, it’s believing I’m worthy of love at all. To unsee the monster, to relearn my frame, to hear God’s voice louder than echoes of blame. It hides in my dreams now, slipping through sleep, planting old whispers of secrets I don’t keep. Since it can’t reach my actions, it attacks my mind, but even in my nightmares there's nothing to find. 

One day the footsteps will fade from my head, the monster will vanish, its hunger long dead. I’ll rise from the ashes, a lantern in hand, showing the fallen the way they can stand. I'll bring keys for the chains that once held me, unlocking the cages, setting them free. For I was the hunted,  the broken, the prey, but grace made a guide out of ruins and clay. So if you are haunted, take heart, don’t despair, I’ve wrestled your monster, I’ve breathed its air. And if I can be free, then so can you, the hunted, the haunted, can all be made new. I’ll teach them the language of night turned to dawn, how scars become maps and monsters are gone. A witness, a lantern, a soul once confined, freeing others from the monsters locked in their minds.

To the one who hears footsteps when silence should stay. To the one who feels hunted with no words to pray. I’ve been where you’re standing, I’ve worn your disguise, I’ve carried the weight of those same heavy lies. To the one who feels broken, ashamed, and undone, who stares in the mirror afraid of what's to come. You are not the monster that calls your name, you are more than the scars, you are not to blame. The past does not own you, the cage has a key, the voice of your Savior says, “Come, follow Me.” You can walk free from the lies, discover what’s true, before the monster you fear ends up killing you. So rise from the ashes, let the old mirror shatter, your worth is not lost, and your voice still matters. We are no longer hunted. No longer caged by an imposter. Just living proof that God redeems all, even the monsters.