When Someone Said I Needed a Holiday, I Said

What is a bed
when you lie down
and still your mind
shouts and rings and cries
with your thoughts,
your life on replay like a bad sitcom,
and your regrets
play in your head?

What is an empty room
when it’s filled with
the suffocating air
of the words that
you ache to say,
or did say
but wanted to take back-
mixing with the
sounds of the air condition-
and you wonder if
it’s either keeping you cool
or coldhearted?

What is a nice stroll
on a quiet park
when you have
the fear that someone
might mug you,
rape you,
kill you,
or worse,
see that you’re
lonely and alone?

What is a recluse
on a deserted island
when the waves
remind you of
the things, the people
that came and went in your life,
and how you, like the sand,
was never the same since then?

What is rest
of all kinds and places
when all you ever wanted
and needed and craved
was a person,
a feeling,
a moment,
a chance?

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