I Do Bleed
I Do Bleed
I'm a woman, and I do bleed,
Stains are pride, not shame.
Bleeding for five straight days,
That feeling of nausea, fatigue, cramps,
And that excruciating pain,
Someone inserting needles I would say.
The bleeding blood defines me,
From serenity of a calm ocean, fiery fire;
To the ebb and flow all within me.
You know why women bleed red,
And not blue, green or yellow?
Because it's the colour of strength,
And valour we show.
Rapists are welcomed in a temple,
But not a bleeding woman,
Impure what she's labelled.
Do God become an atheist himself,
If we enter?
Purchasing a pack of sanitary napkins,
Is quite an event in itself.
Wrapped with care, I mean paper,
And placed gently in a black polythene,
Handed over with utmost secrecy.
But why in a black polythene?
Is it, so that no-one watches us,
Oh! there you go,
I heard a giggle again while carrying it,
Or is it, that the black transparent polythene,
Shows just the shallowness and narrow mindedness?
Or will people catch an eye cancer if they
See it from naked eyes,
What if men menstruated?
That's even worse, competition and demonstration of masculinity
For men it will become.
Periods still a bloody taboo to talk upon;
They say it's a mess,
Blood all around,
But isn't it a way of bringing
A life, a new creation?
I'm a woman and yes we do bleed,
Do you have any problem?