Megan - The Delicate Demon

When I go grocery shopping

I avoid certain aisles

in fear of letting my demon out.

It usually happens in the jelly aisle

or any aisle with a lot of glass jars.

I’ll be walking down it and suddenly

I get this strange urge to just start

knocking everything off the shelf,

like straight-up going bat shit crazy

on some glass jars.

I won’t even talk about the wine area.

It’s as if a switch goes off. I just want to

smash, and crash,

release this pent-up energy.

I want to see

jelly and pickles and juice

and pigs feet

and glass, lots of glass,

crushed and oozing in a beautiful matrimony

of organic colors and swirls with the

dull floor.

I want to see that true honesty of how something so delicate

can be ragged in seconds.

Maybe I’ve created this demon myself.

I’m too delicate.

I’m that glass jar

and I’m always anticipating the fall,

excepting to fail.

I just want to get it over with, and move on.

Here I am just sitting on the shelf.

Motionless.

This demon in me wants to be break into a million pieces

so I can get over being afraid of the future,

and build myself up again, stronger.

Until the less metaphorical version of this happens,

I just want to break shit.

All I want is a baseball bat and a few minutes in Safeway.