Corn

I will wear my Mitski shirt like body armor

I will brace the cold and damp

And I'll go practice with my band

And I will wear the scalps of men who sought to harm her

I will be angry until death

I'll use my final dying breath to tell them

Put glow in the dark stars on my ceiling

Who told you your bullshit was appealing

Does it give you a warm, fuzzy feeling

A wound reopened, I'll never start healing