Amy Rose Peetz
'Ocd - And What Used To Be Me' - Poem by Amy Rose Peetz
OCD and then there’s me – the shades of one who once was free.
You feel its grip as it perverts, it horrifies and then it hurts,
It strips you of your very self, does rob you of your mental health.
As every instinct turns to dust, from loving to loathing, indifference to lust,
What remains are the shadows of intent and will, they disperse in the scope of a mind that’s not still,
In the grips and despairs of this tormented place, you will know the extent of the damage we face.
You will know what is lost, what’s recovered and dead. We rely on our hearts as we can’t trust our head,
It reflects an intention we never conceived, develops perspectives we never believed
So what do you embody, when so much is changed? When one’s nature and virtue’s distorted and shamed,
What makes one alive, when so much is dead?
How can someone seek heaven - with the hell in their head?
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