Kitchen Heart

Kitchen Heart
by Me(whatever)

This heart of mine is a kitchen,
if I were to describe it to you specifically.
the walls change colors on different days,
and the windows close and re-open,
according to the temperature of the weather. 

The pictures lined up prettily on the changing wall-paper,
need to be dusted every once in a while.
If the decor is disarrayed and messy,
I must use my hands, -quickly
before a guest comes.

The dishes can become dirty as they sit in the sink,
eventually a rotting smell seeps out.
I can ignore dirt and grime for a while,
holding my nose as I walk by,
though in the end I can't bear it.

And when I become hungry,
the refrigerator sits in the corner,
Preserving  memories I haven't thrown away.
Though they've cooled with time,
I can easily reheat them in the microwave!

If I wish to bake some cookies for someone,
the oven stands to be heated.
Though things I've kept in the freezer,
hoping never to be melted,
may also accidentally be thrown in.

The knives reside in their places,
clean and ready to be used.
To feed my boredom,
I grab the things I bought elsewhere,
and even if I'm cut, I chop and cook.

Pots large enough for a family,
and spiders unseen deep down in the cupboards.
Sneaky mice thieves running in at night,
the drawer that holds all the useless gizmo's,
thrown in by indifferent fingertips.

Yes, the chip bag hidden for a self-pleasure,
the cans over five years old,
people opening doorways searching for nourishment,
the stinky thing they find,
and the performance of dancing silverware.

Conversations are held here,
singing, twirling, crying, wondering.
The bottles of cleaning supplies sweep the floor,
scrubbing away with all their might,
a discoloration of Clorox. 

Plates all stacked up,
occasionally becoming broken,
the counter-top grandly adorned with candy wrappers,
the aroma of spices,
and the acquaintances walking through.

Hey,
if I said,
"my heart is a kitchen"
what would the glass vase roses say,
that are in the dining room?

Because,
no doubt,
a kitchen,
is a dangerous place.