A slow and sluggish start sees me struggle to feel regular,
I reach over and grasp the comfort blanket and roll back round,
My eyes close and the healing process splutters so sedately,
And the fatigue seeps into all of my sinews and my bones,
A rasping voice from my mind beseeches me to just relax,
I let the heaviness weigh down on me like a kettlebell,
And I feel like I will never push past the slumber I’m in.
The Poetry of OCD 