I am seen,
As a neat freak,
For having,
Everything,
Organised,
In,
A specific way,
I am seen,
As controlling,
For wanting,
Things to be,
In order,
The reality,
Is,
I have a,
Monster,
Perched,
Upon,
My shoulder,
Watching me,
It’s body,
Scabbed,
Dirty,
And ochre,
In colour,
This monster,
Whispers,
Into my ear,
Sweet,
Words,
That make,
Me think,
About obsessive,
Thoughts,
Like,
I am catch,
A germ,
From handling,
A baby,
Or I need,
To have all the jars,
In the cupboard,
Facing,
The same way,
So,
I wash my hands,
Anxiously,
Ferverishly,
Until I think,
It’s enough,
But I go back,
Just in case,
I missed,
A bit,
Compulsively,
I feel relief,
Momentarily,
I return,
Again,
And,
Again,
It’s the same,
With the labels,
I’ll count them,
Turn them,
Making sure,
They look neat,
I’ll walk away,
But I’ll,
Return,
Again,
And,
Again,
Until,
The ochre monster,
Is satisfied,
I try,
To think,
About something else,
But the monster,
Has already whispered,
Those sweet,
Words,
Making me go,
Back anxiously,
To check once more,
It’s too hard,
To fight on,
My own,
I’ve spoken,
To the doctor,
And,
They have referred,
Me to therapy,
The monster,
Isn’t pleased,
But,
I’d rather be free,
Than,
Have its,
Dirty,
Body,
Perched on my shoulder,
For the rest of my life
Heather's Blog 