It’s soft behind my eyes again,
I suppose it has been for a while
Drums pushing blood,
Squeezing it through hoses
Sugar-blood pools on meat
And I begin to rot

Pressing into deep shades of violet,
Into stars and lines

The engine starts behind my ears again,
Grinding gravel through gears
Powder and shards
Sift down to soak everything up,
To stop the bleeding