A tarnished necklace hangs around my neck,
Blackening, bruising, imprinting,
Its pattern stamped upon my skin,
A violent tattoo.
Sitting like a statue,
A stone tribute to manic depression,
I stare between the lines of the notebook,
Until they blur in vein-like stripes of red and blue,
Flowing with blood of ink.
The necklace strangling me,
The charm, so innocent,
It is mocking me as I try to write something,
That will make you notice me.
But with every word, I lose another reason to care,
If I don't give a damn, then why should you?
Life is three billion frozen heartbeats,
Then you die.