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.