I Don't Go Inside

There's an acidic, fruit-like smell
in the girls' high school bathroom,
It may be in the boys,
but I don't go inside.
It's like the smell of overripe cherries,
ripped to pieces and rotting on the ground.
It may be in the cleaning solution
lathered on too heavy.
It may be the in the stench of flesh and urine
left far too long.
It may be in the torment
of young girls lingering.
It may be in their hearts
strewn hard upon the floor.
It's haunting in my memory
and I put it all away.
It may be in the boys,
but I don't go inside.