The bathroom knows my secrets;
All of those stolen candy bars,
their wrappers crumpled between tissues so Mom
will never know
that I took another, then another, then another.
At least, that's what I thought.

The bathroom keeps my secrets
as I hide in one of the stalls of the girl's restroom,
waiting, hating, hiding, crying,
until the teacher sends a classmate to retrieve me.
It is the second time this month,
but we will forget about that
and act as though it has not happened before.
Just like we will next month, or next week, or maybe even tomorrow.

The bathroom sees my secrets;
my disappointed, resentful glances at the mirror.
I'm convinced I look like they say I do:
the man, the ugly girl, the outcast.
I wish I could look like my other friends, like I want to.
I know I can't
But that won't stop me from trying again and again.

The bathroom hears my secrets;
when I scream at God, at myself, at whoever I
can blame
for that B on the last test I took.
Even though I did everything I could,
my best still isn't good enough – not for me, not for
my GPA, and especially not for those colleges I'm looking at.
But I'll wipe away my tears when my parents
come home.
I swore I wouldn't get worked up about my
grades anymore.

The bathroom understands my secrets.
It doesn't judge me as I escape to it during
fourth period
with too much work, too much pressure, and too
little time.
I can't handle school, extracurriculars, friends, or the mere idea of the future.
I can't handle anything anymore.
My friends think they understand. My parents can't
understand. My advisors want to understand.
But the bathroom understands everything.
The bathroom knows my secrets
because as time moves on, as I grow up, and as people come and go,
there will be new secrets.
He will forget, she will forget, they will forget, and
I will forget.
But the bathroom will always remember.

The bathroom will never tell me that I should have known better,
even if I should have.
It can never comment, laugh, judge, or criticize.
It can only comfort, shelter, and listen.
It is the best friend I will ever have.
You may never understand, but that is okay,
The bathroom always will.