The links that were nested around my neck
that were once on yours
now on mine
a symbol
of your commitment
of your love
once comforted me
as the metal was strangely warm
and soft
caressing my erogenous skin
ever so lightly-
a constant reminder
of what it means to be happy
Now this chain
it stinks a metallic sourness
as it weighs heavily on
my tense and burdened shoulders
cold to place beneath my shirt
and tangled in my hair
It grows too tight
as the day wears on
until I fear I might choke from such a thing
I bear it for you
as long as I can
but no amount of self-strength
self-control-
self-mutilation,
will prevent the human instinct
to remove the danger
from my skin
from around me
so my fingers grow eager
to touch not the links
but the clasp
in hopes to free me
from this burden