Scrubadubdub

scrub.

scrub.

scrub.

i used to be defined

by how many times

i could scorch my hands

under a tap

until the skin peeled away

from my hands

and the way

i would not dare to

touch the door handles

or curtains

or anything

in case the bacteria

would crawl into my pores

and slowly

kill me

i was afraid

that the viruses only i

could sense

would jump from

my fingertips

onto my sister

or my mother

or everyone

i did not want to

let go of my shackles

because although

OCD was my curse

it was also my protection

my safety net

against the terror of losing

the ones that i love

and of forfeiting my own life

to the diseases my mind

could conjure up

but living in a self-made prison

is not really living

just surviving

and i want to do more than just breathe

i want to be

happy

and more importantly

immune to my own imagination

i will overcome this

so good-bye to

scrubadubdub

and hello

to

freefreefree