I sit, my back against the wall. Tears trickling down my cheeks.

Then I wash off my face and stand tall, which means that I am weak.

Alone in the bathroom stall, I couldn't control my cries.

On the inside I feel so very small, and the smiles I wear are lies.

Author's Note:

Do you ever cry in the bathroom, then walk out and go back to your day? That's a rare occurrence for me, but when it happens—It is awful.

-I. Quill