I wrote this on a day when my OCD hadn't bothered me at all.
So far, it’s going well
Later on, will it return?
Like always, I can’t tell;
This almost never happens.
I can’t find a trace in me
No will to check and sanitize
And certainly no anxiety
Everything seems okay.
It feels abnormal;
I’m used to it by now.
The way it makes me feel so small
In a world where danger’s just ahead
I can’t enjoy it, although I know I should
It’s lurking in my mind
Whispering what’ll happen (it could!)
So much uncertainty…please begin again.