My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder causes me severe anxiety.

It's hard. To have it my way. It's hard. I overthink it. The images of the little things replay in my mind.
I can't seem to hide.

Why do I have this fear? Just make it all disappear. It's not reasonable yet it feels so intense.
I feel tense. I am not satisfied with my presence. I feel uncomfortable.
Why am I not content with my surroundings.

My disorder involves both obsessions and compulsions that take up lot of time and get in the way of important activities that I value.

So many mistakes that I need to fix.
So hard to perfect everything.

The line I drew isn't straight, I have to start all over.

I need to wash my hands again. It's been 5 minutes since I haven't.

Don't bite the Kit Kat, break off each stick and eat it.

The clothes in my closet should be hung up and organized by color.

My picture frame isn't hung up in the middle of the wall.

My food should not be mixed with the side dishes or I refuse to eat.

My apps aren't on the right page of my phone.
Twitter should be under social and instagram should be under photography and if it's not, it's wrong, it's all wrong!


I need to wash my hands again it's been 10 minutes since I haven't.

The tv volume should only be an even number or a multiple of five.

Why is my seatbelt twisted?
My mind is twisted.
All these errors are persistent.
So hard to resist it.

I am not leaving my house until my phone is 100%, 97% and I can't stand it (will not do. )

Mother tells me it'll be alright after i take my pills...I agree to as long as the pills are sorted by color

Snowflakes are the perfect metaphor for people.
Each minuscule,Crystallized,phenomenon  that floats down from the sky has its own unique pattern,which they perform in their own manner.

But from the cold window pane, surrounded by the frost, a little girl with the eyes that glow with the depth of universal love, casting off stardust as a diamond casts fire and they glisten like embers of a fire in a desert night, glancing upwards they reflect the heavens above.

She sees we all have the same structure from the many around as there is.
No one will notice the differences we hold, unless they care enough to stop in the crisp, white, shining covering that transforms the landscape making it a magical land full of wonder and undiscovered mysteries.

So you see, snowflakes are a perfect metaphor for people because all we are is simply majestic beings, filled with passion, mystery, but with vulnerability, waiting to be discovered.

A broken heart may seem as a tiny penny in an ocean filled with quarters and dimes
They were never seen as a thin line that separates life and death, let alone death being an option in this mind tangling, heart strangling, phenomenon.

But what if I were to tell you that the only light at the end of the tunnel may be God's hand knowing you can't stand on your own.
I bet you wouldn't believe that taking your heart out from its cage to put it with a river of rubies cascading down the hands of any liar can be a fight for life.

The tears of a struggle that pumps through the wings of your passion begin to flutter.
The contraction in your heart may be more than just a flicker of elevated blood pulsing through a valve, though it may actually **** you.

The heart pumps oxygen and blood all day and all night to give you life, but don't be deceived because the heart can be a brain entanglement board game because just as easily it gives life it can easily take life away. Never put too much trust in the ***** that is destined to stop.

Walking along the familiar tiles with my head hanging low
Counting every scrape and deformed shape even though I already have the pattern memorized.
I know the drill as if it was tattooed on my heart but the thing you don't know is that a piece of it's missing.
The heart is a muscle and when muscles break down they're repaired or end up replaced.
But this adaption happens only at rest, so tell me how can I be resting when my mind roller coasters wondering when you'll leave next.
They say fathers are to protect and love
But in my magic kingdom the princess and Queen was left without a king.
Just as I was left to grow up on my own for my poor mother lied in bed with ibuprofen running through her elastic blood vessels that transport blood but why can't they transfer happiness and hope, for that's the only medicine she needs in reality.
Walking along the tiles which appear dangerously familiar.
Counting every scrape and deformed shape
With my head holding high
I see him... The one man who was there but never there, the one man who disappeared like a cookie on a plate, the one man who was merely ever there.....but he opened his arms expecting a big welcome to end up disappointed with the one question a 7 year old should never ask.
"Where were you when I needed you"?