Have you ever...

Somebody, somewhere knows exactly how to get to you. They have your number. At any point, they can press down on the metaphorical button to emit the metaphorical shock on the metaphorical collar they have around you. Like a good obedient dog you will shy away and listen to them. You have a big bark, but to them even if you try to raise your voice, you will only elicit a sound that they are allowing you to use. Sometimes you are allowed off of your leash, but that collar, that transmitter will always be there. You might know the way to break it off, but you are in fact afraid. You simply can not break the collar, for if you do, you will be alone, you will be independent and self sustaining. 

No, you wish to be groomed. You wish to believe that this is the best for you. Oh how wrong you are. That person, that person controls you. They can tamper with your feelings however damn well they feel like it. Oh but when they pet you behind the ears you can not help but feel they actually care about you. Those soft words spoken, a melody to your ears, the lies and statements of the moment that you hold on to, that sustain you. The food they feed you, you eat it happily, savoring every last piece, for this to you is the love they show. 

But do you see what is beyond that fence? Of course not. When taken on walks, you see what they want you to see. The small town, each house with the same color scheme, with the same attitude about it. The grass, the trees, all imported from a place, a destination you will never see. For you are a dog. You are a pet. 

At night you will moan, you will whimper and bark at nothing but the sounds of a world closed off to you. You kill the intruders smaller than yourself, ripping apart their neck, ensuring death. Keep pacing, keep protecting. The collar is your chain, connecting you to slavery. You are shown love, but limited love. Yes, you are the dog in that household, in that backyard. Falsely loved. That is all you are.

You are nothing but an amusement.