The Bloodgame

Blood spray on the windowsill.
Caked mess you try to make sense of still.
Rub your fingers in it.

You thought you were dead, Bill
When the spirit struck the will!
Your hand was in it.

I said what I remembered.
I surrendered.
I said what I knew.

A dog barks ‘till it gets attention,
So I demanded my own retention.
Thinking of the pew.

The blood on the sill,
Was stuck there still,
And I was thinking of it.

So, I heard my best friend rabbit
That I was losing the habit,
And I shouldn’t go out till…

I was stuck there still.
Like the blood on the sill.
And always thinking of it.