I am on a holiday,
1,2,3 max to max a week,
But something is a miss.
I can't take this silence anymore.
I jump, I shout,
But no one really notices,
And even if they see,
They don't understand.
It's the stillness I can't bear.
Afraid to question my existence,
the work that I was born to do.
Sometimes the insecurities get too loud.
Friends, family, colleagues.
No one to really talk.
Superfluous chat of whereabouts,
No one has the solution to freedom.
I surround myself with noise,
too desperate to go to work.
It's the distraction that keeps me alive
for facing the emptiness of my life.
