I will whittle my words with a saber-toothed sword,
I cannot tell how many times I thought I’d lost
my mind to this meticulous madness. Never mind
these open ears, open palms. Precise,
in my faults, those delicately placed. Providing
my head hens to herd, who prophesied these perils.
Be diligent in my little demise, deniable,
silent in my sacrifices. Harrow the holiness from a
fragile, unbridled
utopia.
Think. Thoughts, Things. These
wide open spaces.
Over and backwards and over again, This:
Irrigation systems stem straight from streams.
Allow washing away wishes, wistless.
A-gain:
Vice, virtue, voices I choose to
cherish crumble. The reach of our
roots, seeds search and hinder. Hope
for stolen drops of serendipity in a swath of Grief Grounding.
Through romantic normalcy we see touchable future.

*authors note: this one is about my ocd and how I was able to find peace within myself. I also won some money for this one lol