I am a pack of cigarettes, the kind that you smoke dangling between two fingers that curl towards your face and you blow me out of your mouth and into my face and fill my head with your smoke and my eyes water and I hold my breath until every single thing you don’t begin to do makes me want to scream and shout and fling that burning butt from your lips and grind myself into the ground under the heel of my shoe because if it doesn’t kill you, its going to kill me first.