I remember being told to stand in a corner for a "time out" when I was a kid. I also remember how Bad I wished I could move...


Bad thoughts have sent me back to that corner again
Corner of my mind
Where the things that defeat me created a home
They decorate it how they want to
Pictures, flowers, furniture
As if they are houseguests instead of intruders
I'm standing in that corner
My face against the wall
And I wish I could move
The same thing I told myself as a kid
Only this time I've done no wrong
Why am I backed in this corner?
I watch the clock

I'm in "time out"
And **** it
my time's out