A Housewife or a Whore

I’m not your wife
I’m not your whore.
I’m not your do-it-yourself kit or your convenience store.

I’m not your scandal
I’m not your mistress
I’m not your partner in crime or your adulteress.

I’m not your escape.
I’m not your privilege.
I’m not your verbal punching bag or trash can for temperamental spillage.

I’m not your trophy.
I’m not your valet.
I’m not your boomerang, I won’t always come back when you throw me away.

I’m not your Barbie.
I’m not your blow up doll.
I’m not your ass kisser.
I’m not your booty call.

I’m not your hitching post or whipping boy.
I’m not your own personal sex toy.

I’m not your Jezebel or concubine.
I’m not your Mary Magdalene
I’m not your pregnant swine.

I’m not your scarlet letter or black Madonna.
I’m not your woman or your baby’s momma.

I’m not your Roxanne.
I’m not your Billy-Jean.
I’m not your motorboat.
I’m not your washing machine.

I’m not your bun’s oven
I’m not your house slave.
I’m not your power drill or microwave.

I’m not your player piano
I’m not your horn blower.
I’m not your drums to be beat
I’m not your riding mower.

I’m not your slut
I’m not your battle ax.
I’m not your little girl
I’m not your bitch to be bitch-slapped.

I’m not your free ride
I’m not your domestic hostage
I’m not your eye candy, lollipop or your throat lozenge.

I’m not a tally mark
I’m not your ball and chain.
I’m not your cheap date.
I’m not your maid.

But what else can I be
when I don’t have a choice.
It’s either one or another:
A house wife or a whore.