Pendant

There’s a noose in the corner of my room.

And it drifts in the drafts.

A looped shadow dances on the walls.

Every once in a while, I see if it fits,

coarse rope scratches pink my porcelain neck.

I don’t.

I pull it off, just knowing I could.

Just in case I need to rely on my knowledge someday.

And I slide into bed turning my back away.

I can’t see it but I can feel it

sway. Sway. Sway…