Just Another Day

They ask if she's okay.
Why today?
Because her silence echoes.
So bizarre, how she seems
So hollow.
Why today?
She's fine, she says.
She's fine.
It's a lie.
But just close your eyes,
Accept her lie.
Let her disappear
For a while.
Because this -
This is her every night.
By day she's got
Autopilot on hand -
To get her through with
A grin,
With laughter and jokes,
And perhaps,
A bottle of gin.
But even autopilot breaks.
Why today?
Why is she so resolutely empty?
She's piloting on her own,
But she has no power,
No control.
No fuel and no hope.
They ask if she's okay.
She's fine.
Well.
She's alive.
Just give her a day -
Or ten.
To fill up on hope
So her autopilot
Can regain control.
Why today?
Why not?
It's just another in the line.
She's got to break down
some time.