vacations feel more like a sad song than a reprieve

escaping to places that exist on travel pamphlets

while we're still trapped in the areas we'd rather be

whether by need or the habit of a daily routine

so I sit on the beach and pretend

that I'm not miles away to the city that she is in

sunburns don't hurt as much when you don't move

so I keep running around with salt in my wounds

my family keep yelling at me to put down my phone

but my heart is back home in her hands

though I know she won't break me in half

part of me is afraid she'll lose balance during her dance

but my anxiety is a nice distraction

because I can't stop shaking and tears have been lulling me to sleep

no one can really see the cracks in my heart's foundation

which makes me grateful for my acting, a lie of creation

and loneliness has come in with the high tide

the sea breeze blowing in my fears

as I sit on the beach and don't trace her name

because I never want her to wash away

all I have left is to wait out the months

until September comes and I can see her again

praying to a god that until that day

I'll be able to hold her heart and keep the demons at bay