The 'Time Out' Room

There's a room inside my head I've built with careful hands,

Soft corners, muted light, where my little one can stand

And breathe without the weight of all the world pressing down,

Where tears can fall like gentle rain without a single sound.

The walls are painted sunset pink, the floor a cushioned cloud,

Where whispered fears are welcomed in, no voice need be too loud.

Here blankets smell like safety, and the air tastes sweet and clean,

A refuge from the storms outside, a space between, between.

My overtraumatized little comes here when the day's too much,

When memories like broken glass make everything feel rough.

I've stocked the shelves with picture books and stuffed animals that care,

With music boxes playing songs that float like prayers through air.

"You're safe now," I whisper to the child I used to be,

"No one can hurt you in this place - you're held so tenderly."

The time out isn't punishment, it's sanctuary found,

A holy pause, a sacred space where healing can resound.

Sometimes we sit in silence, sometimes we color dreams,

Sometimes we just exist here where nothing's as it seems

Outside these loving boundaries I've drawn with hope and time,

This inner room of refuge where your heart can truly rhyme

With mine - the grown-up guardian who learned to build this space

Where you can be exactly as you are, embraced by grace.

The Time Out Room: not exile, but the gentlest coming home

To parts of me I've rescued from the places they would roam

In fear and pain and loneliness. Here, little one, you're free

To rest, to heal, to simply be the child you're meant to be.

And when you're ready, we'll step out into the larger room

Of life - but this safe haven waits beyond all hurt and gloom.