Sometimes, a Mean

Sometimes, a Mean comes on me.
A rushing tidal wave of inescapable force
I am swept into its path.
I am its path.
Those around me are trapped
In the wake of my destruction.

Sometimes a Mean comes on me.
I stop
Breathe in
Slowly
Deeply
Become so porous
This Mean takes no hold
Passes through me
Through each tiny opening
‘Til all the way through me &
out the other side.

Sometimes a Mean comes on me.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place
I become the granite that scrapes my knuckles
I am the ragged rough surface that gives no way.
The Mean is so hard that
No light of diamond cuts it.
I feel helpless and rigid,
Waiting to implode.

Sometimes there is no Mean that comes on me.
But my children swear it has come,
Swear I have become the Mean.
Our back & forth stings leave us
Perplexed & bewildered,
Wondering & wishing.

Sometimes a Mean comes on me.
I feel so bright & bold
feel so undeterred,
I just flick it away
with thumb & forefinger,
Just blow it away
with kiss & hug,
tickle & laugh.

Sometimes, a Mean comes on me.
The world is made of the thinnest glass
Like spun sugar, it shatters
Crystal daggers falling and cutting.
I want to collapse in upon myself,
Sparkling sticky dusty pieces.
Sometimes, I do.

Sometimes a Mean comes on me.
I politely usher it out the door,
Shoo it away,
Tell it to find some other home,
Today there is no room,
Today, this guest house is full of other delights.

(cc) Karen G. Johnston