war on style

Uh hello says the wake up
crew i don't know anyone
who doesn't know how to wake up
anymore the blinds they stay
behind the sides of my eyes
shelving rituals i know how to
shop in a cart in an ocean that
greets me i sweep music like a
piece of fabric touching
glass it rises into the heat of
lemon day i have nothing
more to understand the hatred
it unravels me and stands
too close for me to give it
anything of myself.


war on style

hello it begins
each day with the blandness
the blandness opens up like a star
and i don't care if anyone doesn't know me
i don't care if i never make it faster than
you, i don't want to open up the war just to see
faces shelved in repeat
i have known where they come from
growing like grass i sit outside
listening to the humming of death
come to wing and sit next to me
it understands how to try
color and shape so you understand it
like the day
rips its shield off and you walk through it and you
don't know anything about the other side
anymore but you can imagine that the walking
leans out into a green field and that the words
and voices tell me to stop
she wilts
away to