uncontrollable, but in canonical form

It's blank.  

For the first time in a while 

I remembered to check that page, 

and it's blank again.  How did this happen?  

I was waiting and hoping that you couldn't come back.  

But damn you, you stupid thoughts, 

you have escaped that page on which 

I scribbled you in that nook of my brain 

where I keep things to forget about.  Now, 

instead of being solidly attached to 

words and ink and reality on a piece of paper to 

ignore, you are wandering around in my head, 

so that if I am careless, 

I bump into you and you make me stumble.  

Why couldn't you stay anchored back there 

with the memory of my first 

embarrassing moment in second grade 

when I mistook a friend for someone else?  

Instead I am forced to run from you 

cowering, afraid of falling over you, 

you stupid thoughts.  

Today I guess I kept running until I was the one 

in the closet with the door closed, not you.  I run 

because I cannot fight, but I hate being 

caged in here, afraid to come out unless I run 

haphazardly, jumping over obstacles and 

throwing sheets over everything that moves.