Today, I don’t feel like going out

On a good day
I feel the rush of crimson,
my muscles
and my mind are strong.

But spinning hoops
is draining
and the mirror,
too bloody honest.

But reflection gets distorted
stirred with clay foundation
then the mirror
gets superficial.

But without the buts,
on a good day, I’ll return
and I’ll look past the mirror,
feel the blush,

face the blue,

still bloom