I know you're bad for me
no, scratch that
I know you're killing me

Each time I breathe you in
I exhale as violently as I can
desperately compensating for my shame
But your dark fingerprints linger

I know that if I drink too much,
I will find you between my dry lips,
their cracks, formed by the action of spitting you out
providing inroads for your thick, stifling presence

Someone keeps writing about you in my notebook
but whoever it is seems scared to pen your name