OCD

OCD

I know to a lot of people this will mean nothing but your first poem should be about someone or something that transformed you and she (correct pronoun:he) did that to me. Also I want people of color to know that it’s ok to carry these illnesses.

“OCD” My head was pounding as I made my way to class. The noise in my head was near deafening and all I could here was a rush but once I got into class and saw you everything fell to a hush. If I would have known about you then what I know now, I probably would have stayed away. But when you think you’re in love-no just forget it. I remember the first night you invited me over. How your lips were scared to brush mine. But the moment of impact nearly killed me. Nearly killed me. Nearly killed me. Nearly killed me. I realized that then I may never be good enough for everyone but I was good enough for you. You remember how you told me I never remembered anything about you? I did… I remembered the 71 kisses you shared with me that night. Not a single one was perfect enough compared to you but you said you loved them. I remember rolling around on the floor lost in epiphany of love. The adrenaline pulsing through me and once again the noise was hushed. How good it felt to be yours. To be yours. To be yours. To be yours. If only for a brief time. As the months went by I came over again; we played a stupid game of UNO but it was so nice to see the smile spread across your face. You seemed happier…happier than I have seen you in a while…. You always wear your hair braided but stray strands fall out. From what I could count until the bed made everything fall loose, 12 had. And as much as I wanted to put them back in place, I did not want to change a single moment with you. Even though my hands were aching and craving to fix the misplacedness, they did not realize they could never fix all of you. All of you. All of you. All of you. All of you. All of you. All of you. All I want is all of you… You use to laugh at the way I would call your name in the hallway. The way my short frame would stumble past the blur of people until at last it was just you and I. You would smile the same smile you gave me that first night and I would giggle and look away. You said you loved it. You loved it. You loved it. You loved it. You loved it. You loved it. But now you don’t. You told me you weren’t happy 54 times so now you are leaving. And now I am left with the pain and all the wounds you patched up are now bleeding. You no longer want me but I will always want you. Because though you may be out of love, I can’t stop loving you.

@lez-get-fvcked-up