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.
Copyright © Uwe Stroh | Year Posted 2014
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