Domesticated

You've got me chained to a white picket fence.
The front yard covered in cut grass and cigarette corpses.
The collar comes so naturally but your lead is unappreciated.
What was once worn out from use, now rusts from lack of joyful abuse.

The tie you propose doesn't choke like the leather.
Can I cook your dinner in my bomber jacket?
If the fresh cake has black frosting do you not like the taste?
I serve up the red delicious apple pie, even with the black liner carving my eye.

For you I scrub the kitchen floor while in my biker boots.
For you I set the table with silver to match my ears.
For you I polish the China with my midnight fingernails.
For you I cover my ink with ironed polo, and a matching belt.

What once burned out and free, the roaming fire of my ego.
You took it in, brought up the hem and pricked me with the needle.
The slamming domination that was shared has now become domestication.
A rebel aggression we made and bore, is a placid still photograph of yore.

I can clean away every piece of broken dirt in this the house we share.
I can greet you at the door with smiles and skin laid bare.
I can suture up all your internal wounds and each external tear.
I can make everything around you glisten, but still I'm your unequal pair.


*** *** ***

Once again, this one is for my book. And who knew I was such a secret fan of Angelina Jolie? I'm surprised lately how often I like her. What isn't surprising is how much I like Josh Beech.

"The truth is I love being alive. And I love feeling free. So if I can't have those things then I feel like a caged animal and I'd rather not be in a cage. I'd rather be dead. And it's real simple. And I think it's not that uncommon." -Angie Jolie