Sometimes lovers fall in love to find out that once your heart stops beating it's all you got.
Sometime's eyes catch a strangers eye to know that you'll always be alone.
But why, why must you abandon me, abandon my heart out of every little thing.
We have worked so hard for this precious gift and to be thrown away into the thin air as if it were nothing.
Our hands were molded together like a ceramic art but now falling apart.
Each time we have kissed it's like a wave melting throughout our spirits.
Abandon, just do it, abandon me because i love you.
I want nothing more from you but your love and devotion.
Speechless, dry conversations that were once filled with excitement.
Some days you love me, and others you abandon me.
You are the key to my heart.
Why is it so hard to love but yet easy to hate.
All i ask if for your attention and love but now i'm being abandoned and i can feel your soul slowly drifting away.
Please come back, talk to me at last, feel my love with a tender kiss.
Don't become a shadow, yet even the shadows you may become i will always seize to remember.

All I have to do is go around the corner
To the other entrance to the parking lot
This should be easy
Driving is easy
I pull up to the road and look both ways
And horror strikes me to my core
The street isn’t empty

My knuckles turn pale as I grip the steering wheel
Like a cross to keep myself from shaking
My foot is on the gas pedal
The direction that this 3,000 pound machine goes
Is under my control
I lose control of my breath

I pull out onto the street

Swerve into the left lane
My mind says
There’s a family next to you
A mother singing along to the radio
A father stressing about his job
A little girl playing video games in the back
Next to her baby brother, still in a car seat
Their lives are fragile
My mind tells me
Slaughter them

I stop at the stop sign and look both ways

Humans are made of paper and glass
They collapse and shatter in a gentle breeze
And with this car I am Prospero
I can call tempests
I can crush their ribcages
Beneath the weight of metal and horsepower
Even if mother and father live
They must live with the empty space
Left behind by their much more tenuous children
I am collapsing under the weight of the power I hold
I am overwhelmed with visions of what I could do
What I might do
What I fear I will do

I turn the corner

I want to reach into my skull
And rip my brain free from its cavity
I do not want it to control me
I have no power over these obsessions
Despite the cocktail of medications I am prescribed
Despite the therapy
The conditioning
I can always pull the steering wheel
These intrusive thoughts will always infect me
They spread from my head to the rest of my body like a disease
I am sick

I pull back into the parking lot

Maybe I hurt myself...

To keep myself from hurting you...

With the thoughts begging to become actions...

I wonder what would happen,
If more people knew about how not cute OCD is.

If they knew about intrusive thoughts,
Thinking about killing yourself-

Throwing yourself in front of an amusement park ride,
Closing your eyes and walking into the street.

Stuck picking at your brain,
Ruining your day.

What would happen if...?
And knowing you shouldn't but REALLY want to.

It's not cute,
Love.

Obsessively thinking, about thinking
I'm thinking the thoughts in my head, were placed there.
Something is wrong with the part of my brain that does the linking.
The seams that were made when my last therapist took out my brain, are starting to tear.

I'm lost in the flow of my words. Planted words.
Am I losing my mind? I can't lose it a second time.
The verbs I produced, destroy me, with slicing, and dicing.
And the rhyming, has turned into pantomime.

What were the words I spoke minutes ago?
Have they even taken my memory?
A part of me doesn't want to know.
But this is different, this is treachery.

Stolen thoughts, stolen memories, stolen words.
Am I the "crazy" that everyone imagines?
My mind keeps getting split, halves, now thirds.
I think the diagnois matches.

I guess I was meant to be crazy.

I keep rubbing my hands for heat
Trying to warm you but not melt you-
To hold you in any state I can
You're consistent as water
Obsession is an addiction that preys on the desperately distracted
A sure sign that I'm not healed

I have this thing
This thing that I do
It's no big deal
It's just this thing that I do

I took three steps
That's one less than four
Even though four is not a bad number
It is too close to the ones that are
Three and eight are the best
Followed by twelve and twenty-four
And all the numbers of seven
Well not the numbers with five
Those send shivers down my spine

Even numbers are better than odds
Excepts two
Which combined with three is five
I said odds are worse
But thirteen is pretty great
As long as it doesn't mix
With the ones that I hate
And eight is Ok
But sometimes it makes me think
That eight is too close to nine
And to make nine you must have five
So sometimes I don't think
That eight is so Ok

This is the thing
This thing that I do
I know this behavior is strange
But this is just the thing that I do

Check.

Relief.

Check.

Relief.

Check.

Relief.

Pause.

Don’t check.

Un-pause.

Sudden and devastating irony that one’s skin can crawl, yet none of their limbs work.

The only animated parts being my heart as it hammers against the rigid, perspiring cage that it so desperately tries to keep alive.

And my lungs, as they desperately gulp for air like they may never taste it again.

For who knows if oxygen exists in the darkness that lurks at the epicentre of the collision between fact and fiction.


Check.

Check again.

i'm not giving up
if i never had any hope at all

i'm worried about disappointing You
You care about me and that’s scary
i'm unpredictable
i'm unstable
i'm unreliable

You are so perfect to me
i can't stand to watch you worry your beautiful head over me
i will always be okay
i promise