The creature stirs
Pacing and hissing
Testing corners
Prodding points
Maternal figures
Teach newly bled
How to use
Pads and tampons
Alleviate cramps
Verbally fumble through
Reproduction’s process
No one thinks to say
Your body is
Friend and foe
Draw her close
Care and caress
But also
Corset and leash her
Hold up
Here me out
Not in the way
You think
I might mean
Is it a man’s world
Hardly
Everything rolls
In cycles
You came from
A mother
She was shown
How to
Hide her blood
Ingenious
Way of
Suffering
In silence
.
.
.
Author’s notes: Covid caught up to our household and the effect is legit. I wrote this mind mumble in the midst of a fevered shower, trying to breathe. After asking around, the general consensus is that all menstruating folks are extra angry when we get our periods during the span of a nasty bug. If you can’t understand why, imagine a coughing spell initiating expectoration from unexpected places, and you will have an idea of the indignation of it all…lol.
What kinds of fun things have you written in a feverish state? Send me your offerings for solace and smiles.
About the Creator
Aspen Marie
In love with life and all of its foibles.
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At My Wits’ End
Life is about taking out the trash and calling it trash because you have every reason to. It wasn't meant to be linear, they say. But the times you tried to make it straight led to problems, and you didn’t have the tools to put any of it to use. You don't put your right shoes on the right feet; you put the left shoes on the left feet. The grey hardened slab will trip you up anyway.
By Caitlin Charlton7 days ago in Humans
Comments (4)
❤️❤️ This poem was beautiful, but one line stood out to me above all others. The Enallage (deliberate grammatical shift) and its defiance spoke to a deeper part of me: "Teach newly bled" instead of "newly wed." It prepared me for the Antithesis and the stark reality that our bodies can be a foe and not just a friend. ❤️❤️ The mention of the corset brings me back to the book I am reading now, To Kill a Mockingbird. It seems the men are let loose with no restrictions, yet for us, the opposite is true. I felt this poem in my bones: my rage was simmering just under the surface until I reached your conclusion.
I hope the fever breaks soon and you can get some well-deserved rest.
The only thing I have a fever for... is more cowbell! Well-wrought, Aspen!
Omgggg, I'm so sorry to hear that 🥺 I hope you feel better soon. Please make sure you have enough rest. Sending you lots of love and hugs ❤️ I've never written anything in a feverish state though hahaha