OCD
You have OCD,
And when I thought of you,
I spilled oatmeal in your shoe.
Those little oats,
A thousand and one,
You keep counting ’till you’re done.
I messed up your cutlery,
A knife with the fork,
Your bottled anger is about to uncork.
You put them in order,
From fork to knife,
What am I doing to your life?
I give you chocolate,
And a rose or two,
But the petals are not aligned for you,
But our relationship,
Is unsorted and true,
For I have OCD when I think of you.
~ Patrick Rivers, 2019