Oh Smithereens...

Oh, your skin, your skin and bones… Such a fine paste, I can’t -I can’t separate the lines. Where do I go from here? There are so so many questions. And unopened letters on a desk I don’t recognize. Smithereens, smitten, A system? Will I find the gems? Lit sequins fashion a butterfly, and knit secrets wind around my neck. Protection? Possession. You, kitten, define so many lives. A witness. Where are you pushing me? Cause I want a gilded phoenix, I make it static and stayed. My name was freedom, but I bought the cage. Burn, and burn and burn and black, red, dust, go. This is not the news, the story broke when I shut it off. And now I twist and sigh, never rewind the tape. Just play, never rewinding the tape, play play play.