The Time of the Month Blues
pain, cramping, bloating;
blood clots, tear drops, emoting;
gas pain, headache, egg waste.
void of child and patience;
one more month of freedom;
emotional clock still works
(strong batteries run in my family).
caged body, sweaty forehead, foreign smell;
gross-feeling, penis-envying, horny as hell;
quiet, reflective, sensitive.
28 days are not long enough.
7 days are just too much.
but at least I’m still young enough–
either that or life has a slow way of catching up.
whatever it is,
whenever it is this time of the month,
my heavy breasts make my heart sink a little;
each body part that once was little
grows before my eyes
as my capacity to deal with it all shrinks.
potential life exits
only to recreate its possibility
again and again.