MY MONTHLY RITUAL
It's here again
The little signs
First the weakness
Followed by the blurness
Wrath migranes
My face is filled with giant zits
My boobs bigger and fuller
Rounder and perhaps juicer
My mood turning on its own
Polite right now, rude the next
If only there is a pill
To end this uncontrollable emotions
Or perhaps the nonstop bloatedness
I fall faster than a gravitational force
Cramps feels like death
Oh! I just want to end it even before it starts
A three days journey of pain and beauty
Less of activity and general fatique
Constant consciousness of clothing
As the red liquid tickles down
Breaking every muscle along it's path
I sit on my toilet
Fighting the odds stained with blood
A necessary evil I must say
For in it lies life unwoven
It comes with a surge of pain and passion
Returning each month
It's not a curse
Neither is it a shame
It's a ritual
One which every girl must pass through
Before she can be called a woman.
