You can busy yourself about the day
Keep the wretched words away
Write, so they are not so strong
Read, so you do nothing wrong.

They will catch up on you, however
With you and your heart forever,
These tiny little gnawing thoughts
With their presence you are lost.

Among the headaches and the pain
In this place nothing to gain

Shut your eyelids tight
When the stars are high
And the moon is bright

But try and wish what you may
You cannot keep the thoughts away
On your little devoured soul
You wish, you wish you could be whole.

Looking up to the sun as the light gradually declined,
in my solitary there was something missing,
it could be a void I could've sworn vame from my heart,
or the lack of sleep shown from the never-ending trail of bags under my eyes.
I'd tell myself,
"Maybe I didn't do my homework,"
"Maybe I didn't wash my hands,"
"Maybe I didn't take a shower,"
"Maybe I didn't do my homework,"
"Maybe I didn't brush my hair,"
"Maybe I didn't do my homework,"
All of the endless possibilities that drive me mad to the core while trying to figure out exactly what was missing from my day;
you've shown up and helped push it away.
Maybe it'll only be for a short time span,
or only for a brief moment.
Until there's a day that comes along,
and you decide to go,
I know you'll keep me sane.

how mad are you
from 1 to 10?

2 is the guy that
despite being left-handed
always puts first the right foot shoe

6 is the woman that
like a little girl
can not step the joints between the pavement

9 is the man that
has full arguments with his inner self
and then write poems about it


we all are a little bit mad
mentally unstable
remains to know
in which numbers should we stick the label

Dealing with OCD
is like losing your mind,
You can be in a room
full of people, yet all alone,
Noone can ever know
when the horrible thoughts
will come and what they will be
you just feel a buzz, a hum, a drone
in your head and you try to block it out
but like Sony Xperia apps
running in the background,
they are there, infernal
consuming the bandwidth of your soul
there is a fine line between delusion and sanity
a clutching at straws, a search for help
pleas and pleas fall not on deaf ears
but endure it you must
until it runs its course
tunnelling on, pushing you to the edge
straddling the fine line buoying
bobbing, dancing, fleeting-
drowning you in its wake as you gasp and gasp
OCD is horrible and misunderstood
why it hit me, I know not-
when it came part of me, I never agreed
I just woke up arrested, paralysed
by the most unutterable thoughts...
I suspect it happened when I met
the thin woman with the one eye-
I have known no peace since then
Paranormal paranoia rules my brain
and I am mooted, glued in the vile filth
of guilt, shame, anger, helplessness-
like a generator running on fuel,
incessant the tyres do not stop burning
alone, sometimes, I ask myself
why? why me Lord?
the cup is too heavy for me to bear
and ghouls have made my mind
an open playing field and I cant break free
at times I wake up and its gone
I smile and dress up-
try to think normally, eat and sleep
but itchy insomnia rages on my skin
beads of sweat and shaking, my mouth is dry
I am afraid, frightened and I cower
OCD is crunching my life, slowly
and sadly noone knows...they just dont know
why I say 'off' things sometimes
they suppose its the preoccupation
of a busy mind, and busy I am
wallowing, silently, stewing in the prison
it seems there is no escaping this

I am flabbergasted, ashamed, and angry after philosophy homework
which straight up flabbergasts myself because I’ve always questioned everything
after reading a selection of Seneca’s letter’s ( ancient spanish philosopher)
Spastic Fury is an understatement
I understand this was written in a different time period
but I have to discuss this **** in class.
**** like why crying is for the weak or
how practicing habits less fortunate
than one is subordinate to
will strengthen thy noble soul for future preparation of fortune/misfortune
blah blah blah
I get all of that **** I understand the validity of living a pure,
un-judgemental, strong willed life.
what I can’t get out of my OCD head
is all of the **** I’ve been through
that was and continues to be detrimental to my sanity
and no it’s not out of vanity you naive ******
it’s called PTSD and it can be debilitating.  
I know this portion of reading is designed for
the average freshman unsoiled mind, free from
trauma and full of promise but I’m not your average person.
I never will be
I remember the times I didn’t want to be a ******* person
and those moments remain anchored right on top of my mangled innocence.  
Seneca claims crying is a form of selfish weakness
I claim crying is stronger than taking a razor to the skin
crying is stronger than puking until you’re dizzy
crying is stronger than getting high until you can’t
remember why you started crying
in the first place
It took me 17 years and disgusting amounts of therapy
to accept my hurricane emotions are not a form of weakness
because everything I feel is a million times more real
than the ******* we hear, see, or talk about
I know tragedy occurs everywhere to anyone
unfortunate enough to be there
but in terms of my salvation
there is an expiration date on
how long I can play in the sand before I’m choking
and gasping “i’m sorry’s” in-between scratchy breaths
I knew college would be hard,
but at least in group therapy
there was actual motivation to speak up

Anticipation heights within me
I cannot hold this pensive feeling
I'm climbing walls and hugging ceiling
My thoughts won't let me be

This hesitation strives inside me
I can't release this burning feeling
I'm scratching marks and hitting ceiling
My mind hates OCD.