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Features

This page will feature a variety of creative works, including poems, short stories, drawings, musical compositions, and more. These works will be by me and others who suffer from or have suffered from OCD. I decided to create this page because I love creating and viewing various creative works. I know the profound impact they can have on both the creator and the reader, viewer, or listener. I hope this space creates a comfortable atmosphere for both the creators of the creative work and the viewers. I hope you consider contributing to this page! Enjoy!

Caught in Chrysalis

 

My lost love…
Before you, I thought I was ready to emerge.
A decade in the dark confines of my mind seemed long enough.
Sweet birdsong melodies of spring beckoned me to risk the unknowns beyond these walls.
Should I have ignored their calls?


My twisted roots…
You run so deep, I will never untangle your complexity.
Reaching. Rising. Rotting.
Your ancient wisdom has kept me grounded, shielding me from the wild flames of Aries even as
you felt their burn.
To repay you for your fierce protection, how much must I earn?


My tattered wings…
I wish you could see there is beauty in your deformity.
Capricious Mother Nature thwarted your growth, yet I feel strength in the scar tissue that
patches up your holes.
If we could only trust, the metamorphosis would be complete.
When, I ask, will we finally break free?

​

-Kelly (8/4/24)

OCD Ritual
 

You are a god, and I am your forced prophet.

My body is spread across the sacrificial marble altar,

wrists and ankles restrained with rope and rosary.

I hear your voice come to me in the silence;

"Child, say the Lord's Prayer five times

or your sister will die in a car accident."

​

-M. Chapman (7/24/24)

Bleeding Hands (Contamination OCD)

And there I stood,
Feeling no good.
My hands bled,
No thoughts fled.

Embarrassed I feel,
This cannot be real.
I’ve ruined my life,
Lost to this strife.

-Anonymous (7/17/24)

Irrational

Why am I doing this?
I guess I have no choice.
I just feel like I’m in a never-ending abyss,
My obsessions end up suppressing my voice.

But washing my hands makes me feel better,
And touching things with my left hand keeps me satisfied.
But in my mind is there an abettor,
Forcing me to do these crazy actions to not feel terrified?

When will this stop?
Will it ever?
Am I stuck in OCD’s workshop,
Which wants to keep me here forever?

I gave OCD enough airtime,
I’m not a caged animal.
I’m taking back my precious life this time,
This crap is irrational.

 

-Anonymous (7/8/24)

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