They’ll spit the word “fashion”,
as though what they’re trying to vomit out
isn’t un-silenced, honest expression.
They’ll tell you how to dress, as though
they’re not saying how to feel.
They’ll condemn all impermanence,
as though phases aren’t actually stages
of healing- Inevitable catharsis,
goodness, for those unwilling to be destroyed
and then to spread the death around.
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