My life with OCD 
is like the undisturbed waters of Tahoe,
when not a zealous reveler, nor even the wind
dare brave the calm of her waters. 

Everything is as it should be, 
my mind and body at peace, one and all. 
But when the perfect prism
of surface tension breaks,
the waters wash
 this way and that, 

I desperately seek 
and cannot find 
the source of the disturbance, 
it’s origin obscured by wrinkles and words. 

All I know
in that moment 
is chaos
what used to be my crippled
mind reels for control, 
ironing edges, 
repressing ripples. 
Sweet words sour
myself thoughts devour
I brave another hour-
glass of frantic drinking
because I’ve been thinking
about how it is to live without
perfection in every layout
and love without doubt.

So if you wish to wade
into the waters of my whole soul, 
go not as a person, 
spilling my silence, drinking my time. 

Go then as a pebble dropped by a rok,
give the water no warning- 
plummet from great unseen heights 
with the terrifying speed
of life itself.

And when the happy coincidence
of gravity
finally hauls you
 into me, 

Pierce deep.
and pierce true. 

Descend
 into my blue, 

And come to rest
 in my bed.

Maybe then
you can hear the silent din
inside my head.