Subtle Self- Harm

Waking once again to another day:
Things can go wrong in so many ways
The ponderings on fear- they do begin
Knowing that I’ll never win.

Trying to reconcile what happens to me
With my bloody OCD-
The mental disability that will always be
Pervading my life; disturbing me.

And the world is full of moronic fools
(friends too, but morons set the rules).
Panic and anger wells in me.
People don’t know in reality

What to do when things break down
Chuck money at it, they’ll still break down
And those who should know what to do
Unfortunately are too few.

It’s fixed!  It’s fixed! They will assure
When it’s no better than before.
The chits- they don’t know what they’re doing
(It’s really you they’re flaming screwing).

Thoughts like this go round my head
Wanting to do something instead…
These things go round and round my mind
There’s peace that I will never find.

I’ve pills prescribed by the NHS
Do they help- well actually yes.
No-one knows what effects they’ll have long term
If I keep on swallowing I’ll learn.

Swallowing Prozac; I will never win
A bitter smile turns to a grin:
There’s nothing quite like subtle self- harm
To keep one chilled and keep one calm.