Wednesday morning at ten o'clock
Her socks must match
Silently checking her bedroom door
Fiddling with locks one hundred times or more

She goes down the stairs to the kitchen
Switching the light switch one hundred times
Quietly eating her breakfast feed
Each food separate is her need

OCD , ... (it never sets her free)
Anxiety (got its hold on she)
One, two, three (it’s a life of symmetry, can’t you see )

In a world full of rituals she’s lost in thought
Washes her hands until they’re red and raw
Living alone her hands are so sore
She breaks down and cries to herself
Each doubt can’t be forgot
Counting cracks with lots of care
Compulsion’s rules, can’t escape the snare

OCD (it’s an endless dream)
Anxiety’s (breath a constant theme)
Embrace (she struggled hard all her life to get by)
Can’t leave her home, still living alone, for so many years

Friday morning, at nine o'clock
She is far away
Keeping the first appointment on her list
Greeting a man, he’s a psychiatrist

OCD (it’s consuming me)
Anxiety (lost in the cycle, can’t break free)
Embrace (Checking twice, thrice, caught in a reverie)

Something inside, that was always denied,
For so many years, .

It’s OCD