I Formed a Square

Intricately pulling beads out of thread,
kissing princes to turn them into frogs.
Everything fell apart only to crumble more.
One- childhood was a solemn pleasure, I was forbidden to taste it.
Two- gluing things was an art, I was obsessive enough to lock it.
Three- scribbling from one emotion was the norm, I made sure I drowned in it.
Fourrr, fourr, four...

My OCD hummed 'even' numbers
but he couldn't tap one more
to complete the square that decade,
so he abandoned me.
However, I won't emulate the pattern,
I'll not leave the poem only to ponder
what my fourth could be.
That square I mentioned, was always loosened at one end,
soft to touch, too loud to bear.
Dwelling in it inspired melancholy,
understanding it could shatter relationships
and leaving it was never an option,
because, hey, remember OCD?
I wouldn't deform a square,
so he did it for me.
It articulated love
but it couldn't keep me warm,
so, I wandered around to find refuge in conversations, explanations,
manifesting premonitions?
Hoping, he would come back,
claiming he never left.
I too was waiting for Godot
to complete my square,
stretching both hands to act as if nothing disappeared.
I hankered after that trap, that square
so much that I became its foundation.
Did you hear,
I became its foundation.

Ohhh I found my fourth to fulfil the poem
One, my father- childhood was a solemn pleasure, I was forbidden to taste it.
Two, my brother- gluing things was an art, I was obsessive enough to lock it.
Three, my friend- scribbling from one emotion was the norm, I made sure I drowned in it.
Four, yes four, my husband- existence was a trap, I willingly fell for it.

Denouncing pleasures, chastising tormentations,
everything fell apart only to crumble more.
But hey, did I tell you I had OCD?
I couldn't leave the square until I got used to it, until I didn't wish to get out of it.