237: We Hide Our Hurts in Bathrooms

I have a distinct memory of teenage years,

of being twelve or thirteen, crying

in a bathroom stall at school.

Somebody had hidden all my colour pencils,

the last hurt added to a big pile.

I had seen on the TV that school girls cried

in bathroom stalls, so that was where I sat,

and studied the writings on the wall

through the fog of hurt. 'I love XYZ'. 'Eat shit'.

Those cheerful things that teenagers write

on bathroom walls with lipstick and sharpies.

I didn't feel right, hiding my hurt like that.

I wanted a spectacle. I wanted my teachers

and my classmates to see and not be able to turn

a blind eye to my hurts anymore.

But nobody did that. Nobody

put themselves on display like that.

It wasn't something good girls did. So I didn't.

I locked it all up in one square meter of space,

in a corner of the bathroom,

where girls and women hide their hurts

to not be punished for telling someone

to shut up.

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Written by: Katrine Hjulstad

Instagram: @katrinehjulstad

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Publisher's note: All poetry published with Eudaemonia Records has been viewed and commented on by our editors. Ultimately, however, we believe that it is the writer's decision to accept or reject any suggestions made by the editors, and therefore take no responsibility for the final product.