By James, United Kingdom

Audio recording by Julia Goulding

It’s snowing outside,
but all I can think of
is dark jelly.

Somewhere,
a snowflake spins,
settles,
sugar-coats the nose
of a lonely old gnome.

His lake a cracked mirror,
his fish all long gone,
he rises,
knees creaking,
teetering on toadstool,
fishing rod poised,
orchestrating,
quite brilliantly,

the swirling snow,
summoning visions of
abominable snowmen;
white velvet queens
in white velvet sleighs;
polar bears prowling
through cotton wool waves;
a flurry of foxes
chasing their tails;
ice maidens dancing
a wintery waltz.

But through frosted panes
I see nothing.
It’s snowing outside,
and all I can think of
is dark jelly.

Sometimes, having OCD can feel like you’re missing out on life. Your mind becomes so consumed by unwanted thoughts that you feel trapped behind a wall of glass, looking out on all the wonderful things passing you by.