hand sanitizer // OCD // never ending

touching touching touching

the handle of the sanitizer has germs on it from the previous hand

that needed it; and i know it’s  okay ’cause i can touch it just to clean it

(they say, it gets worse before it gets better) but i can’t take that,

so after i touch it i pump it again and then i touch it again and then i pump it

again and then i think about pouring i down my mouth when you look at me

like that. then the thoughts consume me:  like, why do we kiss?  i don’t want

your tongue anywhere near my mouth ever again; because i know there’s

millions of germs exchanged  between little contact and i wonder if you’re the

kind who doesn’t brush their teeth before and after bed and then again. then,

i watch her and every fiber of me wants to scream: take a wipe to your face, take a wipe,

wipe your face, wipe your damn face. since the makeup she paints all over her

just spreads the unyielding diseases that i know are pricking her skin and i know 

it's living just to be her dying so i know she needs to take a wipe to her face. 

so everyone else calls me crazy; mother tells me, needing help isn't easy but

it'll make me better; then there's you, you just stare at me and ask, how does this

make you feel? as you touch my hand. and i just want to pump more sanitizer

over and over and over and over and over and over and again, but then i’d touch

the top again and need to start over until i think about my heart wanting to kiss

you again but then regretting it since my mind knows better than to exchange

unpleasantries through (it's not word of mouth, it's far worse than that) the

bodies of our being. and my flesh burns from the sanitizer stinging it and

i read it kills both the good and bad germs (or so my father says) but i told him,

it can try to kill them all, but they’ll never end; so i’ll reach for the pump again

and slap it on my hands, then reach for the pump again because i just touched

the germs again. and as this keeps happening, i feel your eyes peeling the layers

of my skin back as if you’re searching for where the germs are hidden and i know

there’s something wrong with me but i can’t begin to understand it until i’m clean:

rid me of the dirty thoughts consuming me & rid me of the germs overtaking my body

& rid me of everything that isn’t naturally apart of me & then rid me of that

and let me start again.