Obsessions and Compulsions
A perpetual battle within
Paraphernalia on the tiled floor.
Thread for brows — asymmetrical.
Skin so sore from the to and fro
motion to make them look equal.
They’re so wonky.
They’re so wonky.
Anxiety creeps in.
Oh so ugly!
My compulsions take a toll on me.
Crisp winter nights spent in agony.
Blanketed yet exposed to disturbing
thoughts that just don’t leave me be.
What if I left the gas stove burning?
What if you did?
What if you did?
Go check again!
Or set aflame!
My obsessions make me go insane.
An attempt at a prayer — a holy cry
heckled by thoughts of a lewd kind.
Lustful images flash before my eyes
which in vain I attempt to neutralise.
Think holy thoughts.
Think holy thoughts.
Kill those thoughts
if you love God.
My obsessions make my brain go off.
A hankering for just a day without
having to cover handles and knobs
with the end of my shirt to keep off
the germs — if I touch my hands rot.
Scrub them clean.
Scrub them clean.
Still not as clean
as can be!
My compulsions suck the life out of me.
