Yes, I Bleed
Yes, I Bleed


Red is the hue of endearment they say.
Yet, they slander the red mark on my skirt.
They say the smile I own is divine
Yet, I become 'impure' those days.
The palms which they say are so soft,
Are interdicted from touching them.
The shade of the night becomes darker
And I am left in torment to shriek.
Yes, I bleed!
And bleeding is not a transgression.
Yes, I bleed!
I bleed for five days and I don't die.
I sprint around my tiny world with tremendous agony,
But still I smile showing all my faulty teeth.
And that smile will be the most natural thing in your mem
ory.
Yes, I bleed and that's why you exist.
I haven't slaughtered a being
Or disrespected the Almighty
Or execrated the best of men.
I just bleed.
I just bleed but I'm thrown out of God's residence.
I just bleed but tears go unseen.
I just bleed but I am tagged as being impure.
I just bleed but I am inflicted with untouchability.
Bleeding isn't a crime darling.
Bleeding is a blessing.
Bleeding is why you haven't failed to witness this aesthetic planet.
Trust me, bleeding isn't an offence.
Yes, I bleed!
And I am proud of it.