Neil Hilborn - "OCD" (Rustbelt 2013)

Neil Hilborn, performing during Individual Finals at the 2013 Rustbelt Regional Poetry Slam. Clean subtitles.

The first time i saw her

everything in my head went quiet.

All the tics, all the constantly refreshing images

just

disappeared.

When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

you don't really get quiet moments.

Even in bed, i'm thinking

"did i lock the door yet? did i wash my hands yet? did i lock the door yet? did i wash my hands yet?

But when i saw her,

the only thing i could think about
was the hairpin curve of her lips

or the eyelash on her cheek, the eyelash on her cheek,
the eyelash on her cheek.

i knew i had to talk to her.

i asked her out 6 times in 30 seconds.

She said yes after the 3rd one,

but none of them felt right
so i had to keep going.

On our first date i spent ore time
organizing my meal by color

than i did eating or talking to her.

But she loved it.

She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye 16 times or 24 times because it was Wednesday.

She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk.

When we moved in together, she said she felt safe,

like, no one would ever rob us
because I definitely locked the door 18 times.

I'd always watch her mouth when she talked when she talked when she talked when she talked when she talked.

When she said she loved me,

her mouth would curl up at the edges.

At night she'd lay in bed

and watch me turn on the lights off & on & off & on & off & on & off & on & off & on & off & on & off.

She closed her eyes, and imagined the days and nights were just passing in front of her.

Some mornings, I'd start kissing her goodbye but she'd just leave cause I was making her late from work.

When i stopped at a crack in the sidewalk,
she just kept walking.

When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line.

She told me I was taking up too much of her time.

Last week she started sleeping at her mother's place.

She told me that she shouldn't have let me
get so attached to her,

that this whole thing was a mistake,

but how can it be a mistake that I don't have to wash my hands after I touch her.

Love is not a mistake.

It's killing me that she can run away from this

and I just can't.

I can't go out and find someone new,

because I always think of her.

Usually, when I obsess over things,

I see germs sneaking into my skin,

I see myself crushed by an endless procession of cars...

and she was the first beautiful thing I've ever got stuck on.

I want to wake up every morning
thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel,

how she turns shower knobs like she's opening a safe,

how she blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out candles, blows out

[ stamps foot ]

Now, I just think about who else is kissing her.

I can't breathe, cause he only kisses her once...
he doesn't care if it's perfect.

I want her back, so bad.

I leave the door unlocked,

I leave the lights on.

[ applause ]