I cannot heal in the same place I was hurt.
The building runs red with my blood; you're bound to wade in it.

What happened when you told them about it?
Slight frown, small town, shoulder rub, it gets around.

What comes around goes around.
Psychologically disturbed, physically fit.

I had become sane to make us fit.
The reflexivity in your voice when you expect me to respond equally.

Your droning voice intrigued me; you told me I was made equally.
I can't deal with my morality and sense of self now.

I see how you expect me to cope without the room to breathe now.
I can try to heal in the same place I was hurt.