Youth brings with it naivety
Not of a negative kind, but one of purity
And obscurity can hurt the mind at that time
Telling lies becomes addictive
And inflicting that on someone so young is harmful, no matter how far flung
When you can’t see far, shadow puppets become God
All knowing, showing you what to do
Or is it do what I say, not what I do?
I can’t remember, and now you are mad
And now I am scared and now I am sad
I just want to be loved and I just want to be me
I want to be free but I am always scared
Of the one who owns the hands who casts the puppets
The Poetry of OCD 