Cope

There is a place that I go to. Call it my therapy.
Better yet, call it my temporary sanity...
I actually convince myself that while I'm there,
everything else that isn't is simply non-existent
Anything problematic, gone
While I'm there, running and taking everything in
The sights, the smells, the sounds
Outside of this place,
He is not really with her
My apartment door does not have a rent payment reminder taped to it
There are no bills flooding the kitchen table
No pictures fill my room that remind me of better times
Ignorant Co-workers and sexist bosses are dead to me
The lack of self-acceptance and compassion,
It is unheard of
Such a simple place it makes me wonder,
is this somebodies therapy as well?
There is the river that reflects the sunlight
and carries the canoes filled with adventurous people
Trees give shade and surround the paths that outline
the waters edge
Miles and miles you can go, free as you want to be
So many people
Biking, running, talking, grilling
Can they all really be like me?
Without this place, I would not survive
When I leave,
The loneliness comes back
When I leave, reality resumes
And I miss him