Ambition
       becomes fear
When you're the one holding yourself back

                               ~~

The rain, drops
like seconds of a clock
And I rather keep my own time

                           ~~

The porch is stripped bare
like my opened robe
the full moon an umbrella
shining light on    my     own    pale skin
Another counterfeit
of the celestial globe

                           ~~

The shower spews meteors
burning fever, hot hot hot
like it's the one who's sick

                           ~~

I paint my nails with a
toothbrush
'Cause all I'm really doing
is trying to get Clean

                           ~~

Force fed thoughts
like baby food
when does motherly ad(vice)
Finally cut the cord

Kristina, my friend that I adore.
Kristina, you smiling bubbly joy.
In the dark hours we talked and talked.
When the summer came the world we walked.
I held you close when times we tough.
You held me back, strong but not rough.
Your eyes glisten a deep dark brown.
A face to beautiful to know a frown.
And then he came.
You speak with him, while I wait in the rain.
My hopes and dreams circling the drains.
But still I'm happy that you are too.
Because that is love if the love is true.
I hope he makes you happy, stays loyal through thick and thin.
But we both know that’s not the case.
So why did you choose him?

When I eat I chew equally on both sides of my mouth
This is because if I don’t
I worry the teeth on one side will get cavities and eventually fall out
I touch with my toes the yellow stripes lining the stairs outside
alternating a different foot and different parts of my shoes every time
If I don’t the paint will stick to my feet
Turning my shoes the same yellow as the concrete
They’ve recently come in contact with
Now I know you think these notions are crazy and I agree
For people with obsessive compulsive disorder little everyday things
Can take a little longer
We think differently
And honestly I don’t mind that my mind minds things
Other’s brains don’t seem to be constantly thinking about.
My uncle, the child psychologist, once told my mother
I don’t have this illness
Because often I’m not bothered by my abstract obsessions
With frustration wrinkling her face she snapped back
That I most certainly do because they bother her!
My mom hates that I can’t stand to be in our living room
When the volume of our television isn’t on a number divisible by five
Or an even number if the digit’s below twenty  
She’s afraid I’ll revert back to that time when I was in grade school
That time where I would wash my hands so much they cracked and bled
Whenever she tried to hold them
The pain for me was temporary but she tells me she can still feel the sting
My mother blames herself for my problems like your average parent does
I catch her thinking to herself
“Maybe if I hadn’t constantly clipped my daughter’s nails”
“She wouldn’t bite them until blood”  
Maybe, but probably not
When she looks at me
I can see her thinking
“What if I’d never told her about the germs?”  
“What if I had listened?”
"What if I'd done more to help?"
“What if I’d paid more attention?”
She doesn’t realize that she did
She’s always helped me
She was the one who listened while I cried as the monsters called bacteria
Crawled under my skin
Holding my crumbling hands
My mother, keeper of the non compos mentis
Never cried
Never yelled
Instead she took my ****** palms and sang
As she fixed them with Band-Aids, lotion, and kisses.
She’s always there to try and fix me when I fall apart
When I worried so much my hair grew thin
She gave me her own mother’s worry dolls
Telling me they would do all the fretting for me
she placed them ‘round my room
But I worried that my worries would make them too worried
And wondering if you could die from anxiety
I stuffed them in the back of my dresser drawer whispering,
“You’ll be safer here”
I want to do that to my mother
I know I cause her sleepless night
I can see her lying in bed wondering if I’m eating,
If I’m living
If I’m even breathing
You see,
My lack of sanity is slowly taking hers
This woman who raised me spent so long defending me from my demons
She forgot to fight off her own
Well now it’s my turn
I’ll tuck her safely in my dresser drawer
Nestled next to my old worry dolls
ThereI’ll keep her safe
I’ll take my meds
I’ll eat my supper
I won’t upset her
She’s my mother
She doesn’t deserve a crazy daughter
I'll Shield her from my worries to protect her from her own
Because that’s what love is
Love is the lotion on my hands
Love is changing the volume when no ones looking
Love is not understanding but still listening
And most importantly love is worrying
My mother shows her love by trying to keep me together
I’ll show mine by trying not to break her or myself apart

I find as I sit,
upon this isolated curb.
Flashes pass me,
at exceeding speeds.
I see a girl,
She rushes over to me,
worried and concerned.

As I try regain my thoughts,
She slowly begins to ponder.
'What are you doing here'
No longer could I hold in
'I'm stuck in this torment,
these flashing lights are blinding me, dazing me, but worst of all they're continuously haunting me'

As I hold in the tears in which I have already wept,
she grabs my hand.
Always asserting,
all will be well.
After tears for what seems like hours. I notice the flashes are gone.
The woman takes my hand, and proceeds to take me away from this cursed highway towards her car,
until I get lost again

Nothing I do is perfect, and that's what terrifies me.
I stare and stare at the crooked lines and microscopic germs,
not able to be seen under the naked eye.

My room intimidates me to the extent in which I'm afraid to enter.
The mess is obscure, chipped paint off the walls and pencils thrown to the sides in utter frustration.
I can't focus when what I'm doing isn't exact.

Math causes me to panic.
Not because of the algebraic expressions, but because of the erase marks that always litter the paper afterwords that never seem to hide.
They're always there, showing off how horrid my handwriting looks.

The idea of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder makes me want to scurry.
I know I'm a living example of it, and I know how nerve-wracking it is being around me.
Because everything needs to reach my standards, and nothing ever does.

As I swallowed my miseries,
          the pain consumed me,
          the weakness nipped my heels,
I felt fear.

As I sat in the hospital bed,
           the ocean drained my sorrows,
           the needle pierced my soul,
I felt weakness.

As I closed my eyes in group therapy,
            the sins of others spoke to me,
            the sins of myself consumed me,
I felt nothing.

But as I sat in the caged courtyard,
             the wind embraced me,
             the sun caressed me,
*I felt peace.

do not tell me that my sickness is fake
because I know all too well
how it feels to be
bound in chains only I can feel
with a terror only I can sense
vines around my throat
muffling my cries
and gasping for breath with plenty of air around

When every thought makes you cringe
then you will understand
When every rock is a body
then you will understand
When every hand is a nightmare
then you will understand
When every touch makes you cower
then will you understand
Do not dare tell me we are the same
*until you truly understand