Wooden and mechanical
I go through the motions
Surrounded by blooded hearts
And the colours of the living
I try to paint myself to match
But
Wooden and mechanical
My voice fails to resonate
With the bonds they share
I see it register on their faces
And feel it in my tinny bones
That I am not one of them
I am not creeping towards death
With each cycle of breath like they
I am only as alive
As my wooden and mechanical motions