I could be your little monster

You could keep me in a jar on a shelf

Some days I feel so small that is it suiting that I be a possession and belong to someone else

With a gap-toothed grin I promise when you let me out

(on those rare occasions…)

I won’t bite. Too hard.

Because even little creatures like to be held

We like to be reminded that there is more than what’s going on inside our-self

(These vile synapses that control mutinous urges)

Maybe you could even train me

**** out the poison that ails me

Be-rid of my anxiety..

For it has become all-encompassing

If you’d let me be your monster