Charles Bukowski once said: "When nobody wakes you up in the morning and when nobody waits for you at night and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?"
At one point I'd have said freedom,
Now, I know it to be loneliness,
I chose when to wake up and when to go to bed,
No one tells me how to fill the hours that make up my day,
But it doesn't feel like freedom, it feels like a cage,
Whether I spend the day in bed or clean the whole house and finish fifteen projects, the only one who sees it is me,
The walls are silent, the air flowing around me as I move about,
But however I spend my day it doesn't matter, the only one who knows is me,
Someone else said that if no one knows you are alive, you don't exist,
I feel like that often,
I could solve every problem in the world or cause a million more,
And the only person who'd know was me,
Trapped within the four walls of my room,
Fairy lights shining blue, music filling the room,
Yet somehow I sit in utter silence.
