Every 28 days, for the past decade, my Uterus commits
suicide. Countless undergarments that have become dyed
With its blood and tissue.
But that is not new.
At times, the stains appear to be works of Jackson Pollock.
Just my luck.
It’s the price we pay,
Now and always.
Well, until we hit menopause,
That is why there is the word pause.
Until then, my coochie will continue to bleed,
And I will suffer its greed.
Which comes in the form of cramps and birthing jellyfish
And the pain is a bish.
The worst of all is standing up then feeling the sudden rush,
Followed by a reddened face full of blush.
If you do not understand my words,
Go outside and look at the birds.
Women complain about this subject
To the point where we wish we could forget.
But noooooooooo,
Instead, I get reminded every month.
At least there is the fun
Of its many names.
My Uterus is a funny being,
That we can agree.
But nonetheless, my Vag is a work of art
Even as she internally falls apart.
The topic should no longer be taboo,
Let’s openly discuss the red goo.
And all other body parts,
We are human, not robots.
This poem is out of control,
But it’s written with soul.
It is as messy as my knickers
When it is covered in crimson liquor.
I am not sure how to end this,
Actually, I do know.
It ends with a period.
Coochie Coochie
Vag V . Vajayjay, Vagina, Vag. V Vag
V Vagina .Downtown, Private Area, Womanhood. Vagina V
Cooter .Ovaries, Uterus, Shark Week, Period. Cooter
Bloody Time .Menstrual Cycle, Menstruation. Bloody Time
Time of the Month .Code Red, Crimson Wave. Time of the Month
Lady Business . Aunt Flow, The Blob. Lady Business
.Moon Time, Dot.
. Code Red, Red Flo.
. Reproductive Week.
.Cranberry Chunks.
. Girl Flu, Carrie.
.Meat Curtains.
.The Garage.
.Pink Canoe.
.Red Dot.
.Taco.
.