Seventeen.

Sometimes, it feels like drowning:
water fighting my lips
filling my mouth
tickling my throat
collapsing my lungs
until stars fall from the sky
and litter my eyes
and shape my vision
and my nose is burning, burning
like acid from the chemistry lab
claiming my skin
and choosing to destroy it,
and my limbs are weightless
numb
unnecessary
and useless,
my heart sputtering
like an engine overheating
pulsing with life
but aching with death.

Sometimes, love feels like drowning.