#blackheat22 - Hello Poetry

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

0

Sep 17, 2014

Sep 17, 2014 at 1:55 AM UTC

blackheat-deshanti

O.C.D

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

53

they lived at the edge of the sea, they made music with pebbles and shadows shifted, slowly, badly calloused, they picked their way through the throng ****** along pressed along but they were not afraid the wind billowed and raged the sea churned violently washing them, away it, hoped but they remain rooted. mute the throng ****** along pressed along silent statuettes, brave, unshaken still alive by the edge of the sea lights dance on the sea now, night the glows, soldiers lost at sea watching over them scurry happily on the pebbles

0

Sep 16, 2014

Sep 16, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC

blackheat-deshanti

They Lived at the Edge of the Sea

they lived at the edge of the sea, they made music with pebbles and shadows shifted, slowly, badly calloused, they picked their way through the throng ****** along pressed along but they were not afraid the wind billowed and raged the sea churned violently washing them, away it, hoped but they remain rooted. mute the throng ****** along pressed along silent statuettes, brave, unshaken still alive by the edge of the sea lights dance on the sea now, night the glows, soldiers lost at sea watching over them scurry happily on the pebbles

22

lustrous sky framed by my window master brush-strokes Sun kisses Cloud

0

Sep 16, 2014

Sep 16, 2014 at 8:45 AM UTC

blackheat-deshanti

Lustrous Sky

lustrous sky framed by my window master brush-strokes Sun kisses Cloud

4

why are you here? what do you want? an old lover, a call dare I breathe?

0

Sep 16, 2014

Sep 16, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC

blackheat-deshanti

why are you here?

why are you here? what do you want? an old lover, a call dare I breathe?

4

simplicity is me typing away when you are asleep, breathing, waiting for me

0

Sep 16, 2014

Sep 16, 2014 at 8:16 AM UTC

blackheat-deshanti

Simplicity

simplicity is me typing away when you are asleep, breathing, waiting for me

5

in poetry I speak my mind, freely without fear- I share who I am

0

Sep 16, 2014

Sep 16, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC

blackheat-deshanti

In Poetry

in poetry I speak my mind, freely without fear- I share who I am

4

The ash falls, flake by flake, into the lake, I am as stiff as a rake- the oven of my mind can no longer bake, Whatever I write, it just feels so fake! This is not me, as I know myself I'd have been scribbling away, lost in self but my inspiration is sitting on a shelf, the kitchen is ***** there is no chef! I suffer chronically from writer's block, I sit, I stare and I watch the clock- The ship of Imagination is in the dock stuck hard and fast like an old rock! Verses used to flow so quick and easy the thought of writing now makes me queasy- I try and try, but its no longer breezy I struggle, I fall, I feel rather wheezy! I wonder when all this will ever go away I wait, in vain, hoping for that one day when writing shall be again, child 's play and my inspiration will be here to stay! The ash falls, flake by flake, into the lake, I'm as stiff as a rake the oven of my mind can no longer bake and whenever I write, it feels fake!

0

Sep 16, 2014

Sep 16, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC

blackheat-deshanti

Writer's Block

The ash falls, flake by flake, into the lake, I am as stiff as a rake- the oven of my mind can no longer bake, Whatever I write, it just feels so fake! This is not me, as I know myself I'd have been scribbling away, lost in self but my inspiration is sitting on a shelf, the kitchen is ***** there is no chef! I suffer chronically from writer's block, I sit, I stare and I watch the clock- The ship of Imagination is in the dock stuck hard and fast like an old rock! Verses used to flow so quick and easy the thought of writing now makes me queasy- I try and try, but its no longer breezy I struggle, I fall, I feel rather wheezy! I wonder when all this will ever go away I wait, in vain, hoping for that one day when writing shall be again, child 's play and my inspiration will be here to stay! The ash falls, flake by flake, into the lake, I'm as stiff as a rake the oven of my mind can no longer bake and whenever I write, it feels fake!

24