Price Tags (Silver Chains)

I once championed silver chains
A clavicle wrought with
Measured pertinence.
Stitched price tags into my flesh
Bound loosely by peer affirmation.
The problem with price tags
And silver
Is that afflicted areas
Begin to rot.

Break this streak,
Draw me a finish line.
Suspend clarity in the horizon
Dangle lucid from a string
Attached to a stick
Attached to my forehead
I’ll sprint until the clock stops.

Or bestow me with a stopwatch.
How underestimated
Such infinite expansion
Never nothing noise
Further cluttering the alter
Silenced with a button.
Fathom the chance
To clench the reigns,

But not for long.
Unfocused lenses
Shed magnificent light.
Suffocated color
Broken beautiful
Is quest.
That burning
That rotten tomato sensation
Is mission.

I love you all.
Too much.