I take the remnants of my
childhood OCD,
and I put it to
hard work at my
custodial arts job.
Janitor to be PC.
All the initials make
my BP rise.

And the pounding
of the basketballs attack 
my eardrums in
a mad staccato
beat.
The blue toilets, and
the chemicals assuage
my nasal cavity.

Leggings and tight shorts
get my Nabokov mind calling
******, come, let me
touch your pink flower.
I'm wet now at
the head; can they see
it through my pants?

How many times did
I touch the light switch?
Do I need to blink
my eyes two more times?
Ah, if I could only
swim to heaven in
the blueness of the sterile
chlorine in
that big cerulean pool...
wash this
wretched disease 
off, once and for all.

Have you ever laid on the floor, as you stared at the cosmos of paranoia and depression of your creation thrusting you into damnation?
You are quick to give advice (pre-judgement),
but unless you licked the patch,
    to cover the constant itch that burns in your heart,
       you have no clue. . .
of the sea of solitude that ever wraps you, within its cursed cradle,
  the song of longing as each day passes, grows louder,
      the voices in your head that counsel you,
           the feeling of elation as the demons take you. . .
you have no clue. . .
   no ******* clue. . .
you are quick to judge. . .
      as I die living. . . in a state of constant elation.

Blue, iridescent hues of oceanic blue.
Green, startling twinkles of fauna,
Brown, strong mountains of emotions,
Black, losing my self in your abyss.

Such beautiful e̶y̶e̶s̶, that see me.
Within their reflections, I see myself
lost, broken, damaged, quick to fall into their spell.

Embraced my chaotic waves
My mess after madness and
Braved my sullen storm
Reaching out your hands to
Accept the broken me
Calming my hysteric nerves and
Eagerly sailed along  
Deep in the darker side of me

Mysterious our horizon may be
Even in these surges of uncertainty

My soul felt a different you
Only one who truly understands
Ripples of memories behind, that
Even my dimmest night will end