smoke passes through the screen,
trapped inside at my own will.
and all you can say is “quit.”
quit pouring water into those lungs
before you completely submerse.
quit dyeing them black,
week-old bunches of grapes.

teeth-studded knuckles biting my face,
watered-down blood at your own will.
and all i can do is beg.
beg you to stop pulling these threads
before i unravel to my knees.
beg you to erase the past,
maps of mistakes on my cheeks.

another sad teen,
romanticizing addiction just to fit in:
and all i can think is help.
help me
color inside the lines again.
help find the shore,
lost in this sea of brainwaves.

and all you can say is “quit.”