It was me right

Did I lock the door?

I know I did, but now I’m standing here again.

My hand was on the handle ten seconds ago,

So why does my brain keep asking where I’ve been?

What if I missed something?

What if I looked away at the worst possible time?

Everybody else moves on with their lives,

While I’m trapped replaying mine.

And I know it sounds ridiculous,

I know how it looks.

But no one sees the hundred different disasters

My brain can fit inside one thought.

What if it’s me?

What if I’m the problem everybody else can’t see?

What if the thoughts mean something?

What if they’re trying to tell me who I really am?

I keep questioning everything,

Every memory, every feeling, every plan.

I’m so tired of fighting my own mind,

But I’m terrified of what I’ll find

If I stop.

I keep asking for reassurance,

Then hating myself when I get it.

Because it works for five minutes,

Then my brain finds another way to twist it.

Maybe I’m lying.

Maybe I’m faking.

Maybe I’m broken in a way nobody’s saying.

I look completely normal from the outside,

While inside I’m investigating every part of my life.

And the worst part is

Sometimes I know it’s OCD.

But knowing doesn’t stop the fear

From feeling real to me.

What if it’s me?

What if I’m the person that I’m scared to be?

What if one bad thought changes everything?

What if everybody else already knows?

I’m stuck inside a courtroom in my head,

Where every piece of evidence just grows.

And I’m so tired of being both the judge and the accused,

Losing every case I choose.

I don’t trust my memories.

I don’t trust my feelings.

I doubt myself in a thousand different ways

I don’t trust my own reflection some days.

I just want one moment

Where my brain doesn’t turn a question

Into a fucking emergency.

I want silence.

Just silence.

What if it’s me?

What if I’m spending years afraid of things I’ll never be?

What if the thoughts are just thoughts?

What if they don’t deserve a trial?

I don’t know how to believe that yet,

But maybe I’ll survive awhile.

Because I’ve chased certainty

Until I couldn’t stand.

And every answer that I found

Just slipped right through my hands.

So tonight the questions stay.

They’re screaming, but they stay.

And I’ll lie awake beside them

Until the morning pulls me away.

Not okay.

Not healed.

Not fixed.