Obsessive Obsession

Notes scattered everywhere.
Slips of paper filled with care.
Order shattered just like glass.
If only I could arrange this farce.
But these shreds are in shambles.
I’m unable to get them unscrambled.
Mass of pieces that have lost all meaning.
Before long it’ll lead me to screaming.
For order is what I crave.
If there is none then I cannot brave…
What all this could truly mean.
I feel like I’m trapped behind a screen.
Unable to interact.
Just watch this mess continue to detract.
Send me spinning out of control.
Chaos with no order leaves me without a goal.
Its why I click half a dozen times.
As I read each and every line.
My pen then spun around in fives.
One for each of what feels like my cats lost lives.
Is this me and not the rest?
Probably but I’m doing my best.
So help me please to make sense.
Of these things whether they be past or present tense.
Then I can move on.
Continue to be a productive one.
Its what I crave.
Its what I need.
Would be easier if my brain did not need…
To scribble these fragments down en masse.
Perhaps then some order could come to pass.
But alas this is how I am.
So aid is requested to unravel this spam.
Put me back into a routine.
The one I find oh so serene.
Once it comes I’ll be so pleased.
That my anxiety will then be at ease.