It’s a warning.
If I perish, I perish
But I will not shut up.
Lust is not love.
Porn is not harmless.
Masturbation is not a phase.
I lived it
Not ‘cause I was raised wrong,
But because sin crept in through a simple ad at twelve.
Yeah, twelve.
One click, and my innocence died behind a glowing screen.
Don’t tell me this is normal.
Normal ain’t being twelve
And seeing sex like it's a cartoon.
Normal ain’t being a kid
And getting aroused by strangers online.
Normal ain’t hiding in your room
Playing with yourself to videos
While your soul begs for help.
I became addicted.
Sining against myself felt like power
But it was the deepest kind of slavery.
And no one knew.
Not my parents.
Not my church.
Not my school.
Because everyone’s too scared to speak.
Too scared to say the words:
Masturbation.
Pornography.
Addiction.
Shame.
But I’m not scared anymore.
I remember the first time I crossed a line.
I played a game that should’ve never been played.
Yeah.
And I did something I should’ve never done.
Not because I’m wicked
But because I was already deep in a pit
That I didn’t know how to climb out of.
That’s what lust does.
It doesn’t just tempt you
It trains you.
It grooms you to be numb.
Numb to sin.
Numb to shame.
Numb to God.
I couldn’t pray.
I couldn’t worship.
Because how do you raise hands
You’ve used to defile yourself?
Don’t talk to me about self-control
If you’ve never cried in your bed
After trying to quit for the 50th time.
Don’t tell me “it’s just a phase”
If you’ve never looked at yourself in the mirror
And hated what you became.
And don’t you dare say,
“Everybody watches porn.”
Because that’s the problem.
This generation is overdosing on pleasure
And starving for purpose.
Sex is everywhere
On TikTok, on Netflix, in ads, in schools.
It’s pushed like candy
But nobody talks about the cancer.
Women turn their bodies into brands.
Teen girls trade dignity for attention.
Boys are praised for lust, not purity.
And those who dare to stay clean?
They’re mocked.
They’re “old-fashioned.”
America, wake up.
You’ve become Babylon in high heels,
Drunk off porn,
Calling perversion “freedom”
And modesty “oppression.”
Governments fund the poison.
Churches avoid the topic.
And parents give kids phones with zero boundaries
And call it “love.”
But here I am
One of the ones who got caught early.
But praise be to God,
I didn’t die there.
He met me in my mess.
He pulled me out of the pit.
Not with therapy.
Not with filters.
But with fire and truth and grace that burns.
I don’t speak to impress.
I speak to deliver.
Because somebody out there is where I was:
Ashamed, addicted, crying, pretending.
And they need to know
There is freedom.
I won’t shut up.
I won’t water this down.
Porn kills.
Masturbation enslaves.
Lust destroys.
But Jesus breaks chains.
So no, I’m not afraid.
If they block me, let them.
If they cancel me, so be it.
If I perish, I perish.
But as long as I breathe,
I’ll burn with truth.
This generation doesn’t need more influencers.
It needs intercessors.
It needs prophets.
It needs warriors
Who bleed and still roar.
I was once bound.
Now I’m free.
And I won’t stop
Until the chains that once held me
Become the swords I use
To break others free.
