Bag of Bones

How can you find me when I'm hiding in a bag of bones?
My blood may be sweeter than wine
My blood, my hands, they don't speak anymore
They don't speak
Whispers around me
My touch, my touch under [?]
So how can you find me when I'm hiding in a bag of bones?

So slow down, gently spin your head around
Take what's mine, leave me on the ground
Take what's mine, take what's mine, take what's mine
How can you find me when I'm hiding in a bag of bones?

Who do you think I am?