My Sanctum

I look through her not at her, but she knows no difference. My seeming attentiveness is nothing more than a fabricated delusional wall there to satisfying her unquenchable needs. She rambles on unrelentingly, draining out the beauty of the moment. The sounds, often unheard and barely recognizable, are once again overtaken by nothingness. She thinks I appreciate her insight, but I do not, it puts me to sleep; and not one of those comforting soothing rests sought by many, but rather the forced escapist drowning out mastered by all. I search for my sanctum in another state, the only way to make time even remotely elapse. So I consider where I am and whom I am with and then throw it all away. The faces around me suddenly become obsolete and the structures vanish. Time and motion becomes still, as the noise begins to change. The ramblings are drowned out and something new and fresh becomes clear. Faint rumblings from a passing train and the flickering of a light are now poignant as ever. The sounds that I truly want to hear, the just sonances I need, are with me for the moment. To my sheer dismay, time here remains limited. I find it a cumbersome task to remold my mind. Within an instance the faces reappear, the structures are back in front, and the noises recur. My ears throb with pain as the rambling is once again merciless. The unseen beauty is no more as reality once again returns. But I do not fret for I know with certainty that my sanctum will never disappear. It will remain unconscious, yet paradoxically so known. I will never forget it nor will I ever let it be shown. It will continue to be at my disposal, a comforting place where only I can go.