The Door

Over the sound of my sobs

the yelling gradually stops

Crystal’s soft voice

outside the door

tells me to let her in.

I sit on the closed lid of the toilet

we both stare at the floor.

I adjust the toilet paper

stuffed in

the crotch of my jeans. Wince.

“You don’t have

your period.”

Not a question.

Our cycles are synched.

She knows that isn’t

period blood

pooled on the bed.

As she drives us home

my ears ring with

rage that my

stupid body

would splash

across an angry stranger’s comforter

humiliating you again.

I force the galvanized image

of my bright blood

in the center of that pale bed

as far down as it will go

clanking into

my basement consciousness

where all my bad experiences

and darkest thoughts fester

and fuse together.

My resolve

a steel door guarding

the entrance to that

dark basement.

It never happened.

Like all the other

exiled memories

this one eventually

gets tired of fighting and

goes to sleep.