Twice

The drumming of my heart
In my ears
Felt across my body
Giving me chills

The odd itching on my fingertips
Like how most would imagine
A druggy feels
In withdrawal

An unrelenting pain
Aching
Burning
Consuming
Staring at the bottom of my abdomen
Spreading to every inch of my torso

The fear
Desperation
Terror
Pulsing through my mind,
Both my thoughts and my feelings
Slowly becoming numb
To the horror,
Yet still persisting

One more time
No two more times,
To make things even

Again
And again

I am not sure what I am scared of,
Yet an urge
A plea
The need to go clean my hands again

I swear I can feel the
Microscopic germs
The oils
Viruses
and
mostly anything unclean
Feeding on my existence,
Swerving around my skin
Promising to do something

To make me sick
Make me feel pain again,
I don’t know,
I don’t know why I need to or
Why I am scared

But I am.

I can no longer hold this anymore,
I think as I walk to the sink
Guilt edging into my mind,
Why can’t I be normal

The water rushing and covering my hand
is a comfort,
But is not comparable to the soap,
As I pump twice each time
And slather my hands in what feels like God’s biggest mercy
And then do it again
And again
And again

My skin is dry
Clean of everything that is wrong,
Empty of anything
That could hurt me
It is rubbery,
Like it hasn’t ever felt anything
Or touched anything
And more importantly carries anything

And for a second,
Everything is ok
My fear is gone,
I surrender
Nothing hurts anymore, except my heart
That is still beating due to the excitement
Of pain that has a quick cure

Until,
As I leave the room
My hand softly
Brushes against the wall
And I step back – angry
And touch that wall again
To make things even
I can only feel the agony

It starts all over again,
My stomach
The itch
My heart
The itch
My brain
The itch

I turn around,
Broken
Like a robot controlled by lines of code
Walking back to the bathroom

What’s the point,
If it’s all hopeless.