Inside me
Blood moves in circles
Ebbs and flows
And I'm walking backwards
Hitting cars
Waking alarms
Kicking at leaves
I find memories
Damaged parts of the machinery
I try to hold them
Show them care
Set them free
Like smoke putting out fire
On a funeral pyre
Like glass in my hand
Like red in the sand
Beneath the paint
Where water sleeps
But who's to say
It can't be me