Poetry by Kate J Wilson : OCD

OCD

Obsessive compulsive disorder 
is a whisper you can’t hear
in the clutter of papered thoughts 
you laboured over all day 
pinned silence as you record 
minute by minute minutiae 
threads of script you try and try 
to straighten out

Obsessive compulsive disorder 
is three hours of peak time beats
as we probe memories, break words
on each other, struggle to dig up
that quote from that movie at that time
stringent spirited brain, relentless
restless until it is found
a relic of yesterday

Obsessive compulsive disorder
is how the wardrobe vomits 
plastic bags of tickets, postcards
advertisements and leaflets 
raucous reminders of before 
when outings were commonplace 
and your life extended 
beyond bewildered walls 

Obsessive compulsive disorder
is the whisper you won’t hear 
in blinkered hours of darkness 
your fixed stare at a screen 
as I close my hand around yours 
hesitate into the silence 
try to tell you with touch 
this is no way to live