The Colour of OCD

I overthink each minute, each waking day.

I want the pain to go disappear.

I’m trapped; it seems it is here to stay.

I sit and pray, hoping one day it goes away.

My mind has always been plagued with bad thoughts.

I sometimes see red, other times white.

All I want is to switch them off.

I continue to sit and suffer; I sit and suffer.

OCD is both my friend and my foe.

It stays with me, but I sometimes wish it to go.

I realise each time that I wish it to it won’t.

I’m reminded yet again that I am it’s host; it is a virus.

This virus I shall not succumb.