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Sanctuary
Sometimes I have an impulse to scream.
I’m so approachable, contactable –
Email, mobile, in person –
Is there any time that’s mine?
Do I need any silence?
Thinking time?
Control?
Self-control?
All is static.
I’m drowning in the silent noise of my mind.
Consumed everyday,
Everyday details consume me.
Could I take some time?
Some time to breathe?
Does time want its quiet second or two?
I know I make my choices,
I choose the way I live.
Yet I feel I’m captive;
Not captivated as I should be.
I could love time if I didn’t hate it so.
I want to love time,
Not run from it afraid for my sanity.
I feel safest where I’m in control.
Even if I know I’m never truly in control.
Time is not an intimate love,
Nor at peace like the brother I’ve never known.
Should I continue to run from insanity?
Or can I learn that time is a sanctuary?
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