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?