She cleans until every surface gleams Cleans and cleans to remove life’s grime Just one more time will do it One more time and she will be through it No leaks no spillages allowed to remain No signs of decay; life’s easier that way She keeps on cleaning every day As the dirt disappears so do the years Until the next time she looks in the mirror Sees the woman she has become She can’t dust the lines away, the mirror never lies, It reflects the story of her stolen youth So she exfoliates, scrubs, buys cosmetics The face she is left with she’s learnt to despise Her hair is the colour of despair; grey, hardly there To get out of her head she cleans instead Cleans until every surface shines, safe in this sterile world Outside rain is falling like tears, obliterating her reflection Inside the house is a palace, fit for inspection She cleans just once more, believing doubts will go away Tomorrow today’s fears will be returning So she keeps on cleaning, keeps on dreaming Ready to battle another weary day
This sad poem is not about a real person but a reflection on the many people who suffer from OCD, especially in these dark days. People look for different ways to deal with stress and poor self image this is just one possible way.