“Hot” I say, convictionless, to my reflection
That I’m winning the battle against self-rejection.
This body’s not mine, it’s just plain and average.
I’m just a mind, soaked in alcoholic beverage.
From between my seams, loose threads, and stuffing
Spills free my dreams, force smiles, I’m only bluffing.
The Sunday Blues have got me down hard and fast,
Another coffee should help this anxiety last.