The bathrooms in my school
Smell like period blood
And periods spent crying in the stalls

How many girls have wandered these halls
To find comfort in a grey plastic stress room
With all the toilet paper you want
To squeeze like a stress ball

All the wall space you need
To write how you feel
About everything

There are sinks to wash away your tears
And mirrors too blurred and cracked to tell if you’ve cried

No one goes near the last stall
And if you start crying
Everyone will ignore you

As I sit on the scarily warm toilet seat
Staring at the door hinge
And contemplating my poor life choices

There is comfort in knowing so many have walked in my footsteps
Slow painful struggles
Or
Quick furtive escapes
To the bathroom

To be alone