Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

First it was counting

Everything in fours

Once, twice, even three times

Never enough

 

Tap, tap, tap, tap

Clap, clap, clap, clap

Everything four times

No more, no less

 

Then intrusive thoughts

Little OCD monsters

Inside my brain

Yelling, screaming, crying

 

Couldn’t think straight

Every thought I had

Attached with guilt

Everything was my fault

 

Late nights spent

Crying in my bed

Letting the OCD monsters

Get inside my head

 

It never went away

Even when I slept

Sweet dreams

Turned to nightmares

 

I was tired

Tired of the OCD

Tired of the anxiety

Tired of the tears

 

OCD controlled my life

It told me how to live

What to say

What to think

 

OCD labelled me

Told me I was sick

Told me I was a freak

Told me I was alone

 

Medicine and therapy helped

But the OCD always stayed

Trying to degrade

And dehumanize me

 

It took a long time

To build myself back up

To feel good

To not let OCD become me

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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