Vent.

Vent.
sneak

Don't mess with me, I'm a casualty -
of a nineties love affair.
My body is a temple -
in a state of disrepair.
I've uninvited visitors -
tearing me apart.
Sexual transmissions,
decoded by the heart.
Unofficially defiant,
but smiles are wearing thin.
Drugs no longer help me,
the battle lost within.
In the heat of passion,
my guard came crashing down.
I am the dying proof -
in a white hospital gown.
A number on a clipboard.
A breath born of machine.
Regrettable the graph -
that slowly fades from screen...

sneak