NOTE: This poem is not to discredit the mental disorder. The author himself has been a sufferer of it since childhood and has suffered many themes of it some more dreadful than others. So if anything here feels tone deaf or insensitive I apologize it is a mere reflection of my feelings of the bastard.
OCD
Mental Blight
Mental Blight
Mental Blight!
Acts in many ways as the Serverblight
The more one interacts the more one gives it might
Attempting to assimilate its victims by night
Mental Blight
Mental Blight
Mental Blight
To those who perpetuated it I despise
From Family and neighbors
To Mutuals and internet strangers
Playing Sick games and forcing twisted agendas
ignited the flames that’s why I have this vendetta
Mental Blight
Mental Blight
OCD
The apologist of what I like the least
taunting me with new daily fervor
Its twisted hands keep drawing nearer
A bastard abomination making things less clearer
OCD
OCD
OCD
This fight will never end till one of our defeats
But I will not fall, you will not assimilate
Your blood on my hands will be your fate
A Monster to be slain
With all that’s left being remembrance of pain
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