Bathroom Confessions

Behind the stall door, I heard muffled cries,

a stranger in pain, their hurt painted in sighs.

Graffiti the walls, confessions laid bare,

each scribble a story of burdens we share.

In this tiny enclosure, we each wear a mask,

while echoes of anguish leave none to ask.

Together we linger, in silence and fear,

a fragile connection, raw truths that draw near.