I slide it over my neck,
Perfect the placement,
one inch lower or a half an inch higher,
it needs to be perfect,
as if the placement determines the pressure that reminds me to breath.
Maybe it is more than a fashion statement,
truly it reminds me how precious my life is,
as ever breath I take tugs upon it.
But how would you know that,
all you see is the piercings,
the tattoo,
and the choker,
securing a memory in your mind of that girl,
not of me.
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