A stolen daughter

Your contused hands grab my arm, you begin to speak to show you mean no harm.
Your brittle nails dig in my skin, and begin to bend like they're paper thin. The countless holes etched down your body, no regret in your eyes, you're not even sorry.
The old jacket that clothes your back, hangs loosely off your body as flattering as a sack. Your undereyes stained and tinted violet, this is your life, and only you are the pilot.
You scream at me, and demand money, I smile sympathetically though nothings funny. You look so frail, a shell of the former you, a far cry from the girl I thought I knew.
The window to your soul is clouded, and I can tell your mind and thoughts are crowded. I can sense the tension,and such friction, as I adress the elephant in the room.. your addiction.
Your eyes, they water and streams begin down your cheeks, and what's left of your makeup is left in streaks. You look at me, through tear filled eyes, and convince me you'll stop, this will be your 14th time. I've heard these desperate words before, you'll say what you have to, to get more.
The sweat collects above your upper lip, and you press down harder and tighten your grip. You're begging me now, like you have before, shouting ' I swear down!" WELL YOU'VE SWORN BEFORE!
I don't how it happened, or when it all begun.. but everytime it comes to this, you promise me you're done. The familiar words ring inside my head, and I think of how this is all ends, a scenario in which you're dead.
The little girl I birthed and raised, is clearly already in a premature grave. Your wreckless addiction is all you are now...

I wanted to help you, but I just didn't know how.