A piece by a favored Spoken Word Poet, I love this work because of how raw the author conveys his pursuit of love while coping with mental illness.
Young Adult (18-35)
North American (General)
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
The first time I saw her, everything in my head went quiet, all the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappear. When you have obsessive compulsive disorder. You don't really get quiet moments. Even in bed, I'm thinking, did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the doors? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips with eyelash on her cheek, the eyelash on her cheek, eyelash on her cheek. I knew I had to talk to her. I asked her out six times in 30 seconds. She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right. So I had to keep going on our first date. I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it or ******* talking to her. But she loved it. She loved that. I had to kiss her goodbye 16 times or 24 times. If it was Wednesday, she loved that. It took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk when we moved in together. She said she felt safe like no one would ever rob us because I definitely locked the door 18 times. I'd always watch her mouth when she talked, when she talked, when she talked, when she talked, when she talked, when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges at night. She'd lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on. She'd close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her some mornings, I'd start kissing her goodbye, but she'd just leave because I was just making her late for work. When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk. She just kept walking when she said she loved me. Her mouth was a straight line. She told me that I was taking up too much of her time. Last week, she started sleeping at her mother's place. She told me that she shouldn't have let me get so attached to her that the whole thing was a mistake. But how can it be a mistake that I don't have to wash my hands after I touched her love is not a mistake and it's killing me that she can turn away from this. And I just can't, I can't, I can't go out and find someone new because I always think of her. Usually when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars. And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel, how she turns shower knobs, like she's opening a safe, how she blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out. Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. I can't breathe because he only kisses her once. He doesn't care if it's perfect. I want her back so bad. I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on.
Aspiring Artist, Storyteller, Articulate, Attractive, Believable, Deep, Exaggerated, Genuine, Husky, Mature, Sultry, Velvety, North American (General)