Womb Bomb Rah Voila

waking at odd hours is it light twilight of night falling asleep on a whims the tinsel blinks the midnight is it noon my eyes won't tell as aroused from slumber the spirit chants the glory no a voice hum must be morning the smell of coffee I do not want to focus my mind shush the aroma to travel further i am a child in the body of an old lady feeding the cats the dog in need of a pee I age fast to tender the necessity and a flag I will not wave as I run out of fabric trying to keep you warm in wars