About OCD and another things

It doesn't matter how many showers you take

how many times you wash your hands before a meal

or even during the day

because the dirt won't go away.

You'll have to see the blood coming out of your skin

after washing and scratching so many times.

You'll have to wash it again and again

because the sweet and fresh scent of your soap

seems to no longer mask

the delicate and natural scent of your skin

that to your nose 

seems to smell like a dead and putrefied body,

your dead body.

Because the dirt is underneath your skin

and it also runs in your bloodstream

and sometimes you just feel like

peeling off your body's skin.

It won't be okay until you get damaged,

it won't settle down for the day

or at least for the hour unless

it leads you to soreness.

Because the dirt is inside you

and every time you open a clean cut

and try to remove the dirt among the blood

you won't have done much.

Your body is a bloody machine,

a dirt generator

and for every time you remove a little

it will generate more to fill up the gap

just like a scar tissue.

It'll always be there.

The putrid lake inside yourself

and the impure thoughts inside your mind

it doesn't matter how clean your skin seems

to other points of view.

Mostly

I miss the cigarettes

before bed in a cold night. 

I miss you waiting for me to undress, 

the way your hair danced 

among the cold perpetual wind.

Mostly

I miss how you whispered 

in my ears your favourite poems 

and how the tiny little words pierced 

my whole body,

as if it were the almighty rain

and its powerful drops.

I miss gazing at your freckled face

like gazing into a night sky filled with stars,

because

you had not only the stars 

but also the stillness,

the calmness, and the mystery

on your face, and not only there

but in your acts,

in the way you made things less boring,

over and over again.