denial, that is where i take my vacations
a river of pretending that things are ok
that these seven days are more than enough
broad rolling waters emptying into an ocean
waves washing me up on the driftwood beach
lie to myself lying out that the sun warming me
is restoring my soul, re-filling the tank
practice the smile i will use when i get back
they will need to see that smile
in the break room waiting for the coffee to brew
gathering around me evaluating my tan
listening to stories, trying to bask in the glow
possibly extract a sense of hope
that there is some remedy to the weariness
growing like a secret dying
my job is to just make some stuff up
about how great it was and how ready i am
to dive right back in and get stuff done
never admitting what i am now realizing
the one thing still with me after the vacation
is a river of denial running wide and filling nothing