Monster in the Closet

As the time gets closer for a happy little trip to the desert (somewhere far far away), I began to feel like there is a monster in my closet. Everyday that passes, the monster gets bigger, feeding on old shirts and memories. He is a hairy monster and very big, but he started off small, like a bacteria.
One day, long long ago, I realized that this monster was in my closet, but he was so small, it was like he didn't exist. Sure, every once in awhile I'd hear him scratching at the door, but it was no big deal - it was a big door. The thing is, he isn't a regular monster that growls and roars and craws and scratches. Quite the opposite actually, he is very quiet and hardly makes a sound, but he grows constantly. What was once a small monster, able to be put in the closet and forgotten about, he is now huge. The closet door is straining at its hinges, and blue fur sticks out in places where the strain has forced gaps. I can't help but notice the monster on an almost constant basis, but I try very hard not to let him out. I push on the door and sometimes succeed in getting it back in place, but everyday it gets harder and harder. The monster will get out, but until it does, I don't want to think about it.
My wife knows about the monster too, and it weighs on her more than I can imagine. Her monster is bigger than mine, although maybe not as scary - it weighs more, but mine has sharper teeth. Her monster also makes more noise than mine and is harder to control. Every day he is on the news, in the paper, on the screen. His visage is plastered everywhere, and she knows what he looks like in the closet - and it scares her. I'm a bit luckier, my monster is nearly faceless, for I've never seen him up close, but I know what he can do. Most times, the monster gets out, plays around for awhile and shrinks away, but sometimes it gets out of control and devoures those around it, tearing with gleaming white, razor sharp teeth and spilling the blood of those around it. My monster doesn't seem like that, he is docile and quiet.

And I hope he remains that way - even after he pops the hinges and escapes my closet.