A swill of denial
Lulls me
Calms me
Into a faithful slumber

Into the fog-shroud mire
Of a deep and guiltless sleep
Where I stride on heartily
In the armor of feigned confidence

Undeterred by the treachery
Of the brittle
And fast receding ground

Denial runs warm
For the hold of my patient girth
Yearning, to plume triumphantly
To flood my skull
With its thick and beautiful distortion

As the days roll on
As truth transpires
Without my useless treads