My towel damp and a dingy whitish color stretched out on the floor,
My sweatshirt acts as a pillow scrunched up in a ball on top of my moist towel,
The lights are off, except for the one lone light that shines on my towel blinding me,
The rushing water from the shower, the flushing toilets, the whispering girls all seem to calm me to sleep,

The nice warm heat of my bed doesn’t comfort me now,
Only the bitter title flooring can comfort me,
As I stare deep into the plain ceiling, the noises of loud thumping footsteps awaken me,
I sit up to see the boys standing in the girl’s locker room holding a Dunken doughnuts box,
They begin to chant happy birthday the pitches of there voices vary from low old men to high teenage boys,
The large box of doughnuts comforts me into feeling that everything is ok,
I take a large chocolate coated, Boston crème filled doughnut,
My mouth begins to drool; the long wet spit slipping down my chin,
I can taste the crème as I bite into the juicy doughnut,
It comforts me making me feel at home, on those quiet summer mornings on the porch,

I wake up with an earsplitting sound of deafening music in my left ear,
I turn over to see my friend laughing quietly to herself while I loose all hearing,
It’s comforting to see her laughing at my pain, just as my brother does,
I slowly stand and begin my morning routine.