Obsessions What power you hold over me... Every action, every thought Is just a push in your direction Feeding into the obsessions, Lost connections, misdirections, Absolutely positively coerced into these affections By a brain constantly seeking tiny moments of perfection. Though you kind of must admire this curation of adoration, All the mental efforts required to keep up the constant cultivation Of this undisturbed fixation, The impropriety and distraction of a single-minded meditation, All these mind-numbing, pacing, clock-like rotations Theoretically leading this obsessive mind to pure elation, The uninhibited fruits of this persistent dedication. Happy sighs and exhalations... But then... The sobering realization That somehow life existed before this shrine’s erection And perhaps the cracks start to show, Unexpected but apparent imperfections, Initially denied and resolutely rejected, The shattered shards of a crystal ball that disagrees with my projections, The deflation, depletion, extortion Of my vexation, Maybe leading to complete and utter exoneration... The disintegration of my fascination. Maybe someday... But for now I prefer to float in my comforting contemplations, Giving in to the infatuation, These happy delusions of my mind’s incarceration. And if the worst this should cause is These false exhilarations, Then I shall stay here for a while And enjoy the scintillating sensations Of my obsessive ruminations. A Temporary Salvation.
I miss that girl who wore the moon on a chain, The one who found happiness in solitude and rain, Who wasn’t smothered by the endless need-to-dos, But instead made simple moments her muse. I miss the girl with the honest, unforced smile, The one who could always stay for awhile, Who took endless photos of sunsets and trees, And spent time, just being, under canopies of leaves. I miss the girl always seeking out the new, The one whose blue days were ephemeral and few, Who spent her Sundays, childlike, taking trips to playgrounds, Instead of as an adult, pushing expensive mops around. I miss the girl who wore pink bandanas and braids, Whose undercurrent in life wasn’t always “afraid”, Who wasted away hours in make-believe lands, And felt no guilt with book or controller in hand. And I miss car rides with no destination, Enjoying the lilting song of a clock for pure relaxation, Not feeling enslaved by my own procrastinations, Making last minute plans, happy deviations, I miss yesterdays that happened years ago And I miss the me that I used to know
OCDemons An O for the things that I just can’t let go And maybe it’s not even the same things as last week, But there all the same, Ground into my head As though they were the only thoughts that ever mattered Sacred and necessary Though likely invisible or nonexistent just a few days ago And maybe tucked back into the void In just a few more But I suppose it’s better than time spent Wondering What a head-on collision would be like Or how it might feel To put knife through bone It’s dangerous Inside my head sometimes C for the things that I just can’t not do Always look right when crossing a bridge Wear just enough purple Get the numbers right Watch the color patterns Check and check and check again I tell myself I do these things To clear a clouded head Unfortunately Seems to do The opposite instead D for the disorder in my head Brought on by A record on repeat all day, A ridiculous collection of unbreakable rules And the “honestly, what would REALLY happen?” Thoughts that make me feel insane The static buzz inside my brain So I Read it away. Write it away. Breathe it away. (Over)Think. It. Away. To Hell with you demons. Go plague someone else today. Oh...and see you in a little bit. 😉😑