Vent poetry: 4/7/2026

I wish we could be friends

Partners in life and death

A high life in your arms

A slow death by your hands

I cannot be with you

You will not be my end

I am better than this!

I cannot allow you

I will shatter your chains—

I will refuse your lies—

I will grow beyond you—

You do not own my soul.

Ana, my confidant,

My sickness unto death,

My dry land in deep sea,

My pride and my refuge

I am better than you,

But maybe not by much

I will escape your love

With sadness and regret

I will shatter your chains

And wonder why I did

That has to be enough

I can give only that


I hate my fucking body

I wish I was only bones

My bones are smothered by flesh

Flesh that betrays my spirit

Every meal slowly kills

Degeneration of soul

Loss of perfected control

Loss of a body beloved

This body is a prison

This flesh encaging my bones

Binding me to this world

Reminding me of my life