Fear of Porcelain

I keep my eyes on the tiled floor in dread

A public toilet

Two stalls are left

The one to the far left is out of order

Dead

The stall door swings open and I stall at the door

Do I dare?

Can I sit here?

I glance at the toilet

Bad decision

I think I'll just wait till I get home.

This poem is about: 
Me

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