Inside, I am the woman who shrieks

When I walk down the street
(apparently and perfectly normal)

I am the one with bare feet in midwinter,
screaming silently at the cold

It’s me in the supermarket
forgetting I need bread until I pass Tea and coffee
and Table sauces

and having to go back

(Fresh fruit and vegetables
Dairy
Frozen
Cooking oils and spices)

It’s me
filling my basket
against hurricanes, holidays
and the end
of the world

Open my doors. See
store-cupboard perfection, a selection
of cant-do-without supplies:
pasta, rice, anchovies,
the cereal bars my daughter likes for breakfast,
the Shreddies my son used to but doesn’t seem to now,
tuna in sunflower oil.

Watch me at the checkout -
I don’t need help with my packing.
I can remember my PIN
and how to ask for cashback -
I don’t get in anybody’s way and when they get in mine
I hardly ever snarl

but inside my head the shrieking
never
stops