There's an illusion in vacations
You buy a holiday bundle to endless beaches
Expecting to melt into a puddle
From the wet sun, from the softest massages, from the savoury delicacies
Yet I find myself melted
The same numbing beat
Disguised as lofi background
The same screeching shrieks
Of strangers in the sun
The lack in detail as I see the same view
Everyday, the same restaurant every meal
A sameness away from home

In the sand a million footsteps form
In a uniform path from the sleepy gazebos to the ocean
The ocean stretching far and away
The horizon hiding the destination of the sun
No footsteps can lead me towards where I long
Stuck in a routine I cannot call my own