Spilled Thoughts Like Blood

Can't see my mug Put bum cream on my face Thought I saw you drinking white wine Too late to go to bed Jumbled thoughts get you that way On a long day When the brain is drained And the night is cold Spilled the Jaegermeister On the new carpet The corners of my mouth Are much better now Thanks to the cream Something I saw in my dream Was that something in my reality The glass full of drink I took into church Wasn't the cup of suffering I thought it to be Yet I spilled it on the rug Dragged the 7 fin heater Behind on the bike like a trailer Thought it might tip Crossing the railway It started to rain Didn't want it to get wet Rested it on the veranda At the old peoples home But they might snatch it As I have to go and do a job Down the road a little Nah, they can't afford it anyway Can you see the connection Between the metaphors? As if the thoughts Are spilled like blood Sacrificially Like the man who Pulled a knife on me To show me how he would cut Both Achilles' tendons So I'd never walk again Only I gained some distance On that imagined reality. Yes, it is as if the thoughts are Spilled like Sacrificial blood.