Sunday

Rest

that’s what they say

a day set aside

BAM. BAM. BAM.

If only the thoughts would stop their fire

I shift my weight

I smile

I look forward

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Eyes closed.

Breathe.

I stand

I sing

I sit

I listen

BAM. BAM. BAM.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

I…

BAM. BAM. BAM.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Breathe.

I stand

I sing

I smile

I leave

 

 

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This is in response to the Tuesday prompt over at dVerse.

 

 

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This is another #OCDPoem, a glimpse inside my brain on a typical Sunday.

 

 

 

 

 

The Space In Between

 

It’s hollow here

In the space between

Where I am and where I want to be

I can’t seem to shine enough

To keep the dark corners from creeping

Maybe I should just fade to nothing

Let the black envelope me

I’m so tired today

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This poem was written for MLMM’s Sunday prompt: Limbo

The Voice – a poem about #OCD before I knew it was #OCD

My OCD reared it’s ugly head when I was a teenager, but I never knew what it was until I was twenty-six. I stumbled upon this poem I wrote…I’m not sure how old I was, 16 or 17 maybe? It is a very poorly written poem with forced rhyming but it captured how tortured I was. Knowing what I know now and reading this it is so clear to me what was going on, that it was OCD. But back then all I knew of OCD was hand washing, cleanliness, and order. I had no idea that OCD could be thoughts of family dying because I did something wrong, or fear of touch, or repetitive routines that took hours, or horrible thoughts of violence.

I am sharing this poem not because I think it’s great, trust me I don’t. But because if I knew what OCD really was back then I could have gotten help earlier. I share about OCD and what it’s really like so I might reach someone who is suffering and help them see why. And by knowing why they can finally seek the proper help they need.

The voice

I am the voice inside your head.
Do this.
No. Do this,
or you might end up dead.

If you don’t do this,
your sister might die.
But if you do that,
someone might cry.

Make sure you check the stove,
before you leave the house
Because if gas leaks, it’s your fault
you stupid louse!

Don’t let people touch you.
Don’t let them get close.
Even though you want it,
you shall think it is gross.

You will never have peace
cuz I’ll always be there,
telling you to do things
cuz I really don’t care.

when you’re in a small room
and nothing is wrong
you will want to get out
you can’t be there too long.

To many people,
all in one place.
You start to breathe fast.
You become a nut case.

Maybe you’re crazy.
That’s what I think.
Now you think it too.
You are crazy and you stink.

I am the voice inside your head.
I will not rest until you are dead!

Happiness

I saw her

sitting in the corner

she smiled at me

 warm

 calm

and I exhaled with relief

                She does exist

I smiled back

but a single thought

a whisper       She is extinct

made me doubt my eyes

and when I blinked

she disappeared

 

© Caitlin Gramley  2019

 

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This poem was inspired by two prompts

I. Tale Weaver – #242 – Happiness  “This week write about your thoughts on the notion of happiness.”

2. Quadrille #88: Extinct ” Write a poem consisting of 44 words, not including the title. There is no specific form or topic required., but your poem MUST contain the given word or some form of the word.”

#OCDPoem #1

 

here

it comes,

an ambush

of obsessions,

untold questions push

my limits to the brink.

no truth left to hold me up.

where does my help come from,

when nothing seems real?

can’t step forward.

can’t step back.

I stand,

stuck.

 

© Caitlin Gramley

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I want to show what OCD and scrupulosity is like for me. I’ve tried so hard with drafts of informative posts, but nothing seems to quite hit the mark. So, for now, I am going to show glimpses of what it’s like for me through poetry. #OCDpoems.

 

This is in response to dVerse

 

Day twenty-five #NaPoWriMo

Your mind will tell you

when the voices take over

avoid what you love

your misery brings quiet

but the silence will not last

It only gets worse

so do not appease, ATTACK!

stand back up and fight

before you lose what you love

and you become but a shell

You must not forget

OCD dos not own you

you can find freedom

from the shackles that bind you

you must keep moving forward

© Caitlin Gramley

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This poem is in response to NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-five.

Prompt: “Today, we challenge you to write a poem that takes the form of a warning label . . . for yourself! “