Portrait of You on Your Period After Not Having Had One Since 7th Grade

On one of your final class days,

your professor insists on reminding all of you that

all humans will one day eventually die.

You would know.

You have greeted death as an old friend

way too many times.

You do it again here,

sitting on your bathroom floor,

willing this blood out of you.

Wanting to vomit

but not being able to.

Your cramps like little monsters

burrowing and wanting to break free

but not knowing how to.

You start to wonder if this is what being a woman feels like.

Just pure pain all the way down.

Your vagina on fire as you lay in your bed

willing the pain to disappear.

Your uterus sacrificing itself for…

you don’t really know what.

Your rib cage locking as you inhale

making it impossible to breathe.

Every cramp and movement

punching you in the stomach.

You don’t think you can take it anymore.

The bruises bleeding

leaving you a defenseless pile of human

on your bathroom floor.

Your own body sacrificing itself

for what?

For men?

For their pleasure?

For yours?

You don’t really know

and are suddenly reminded

that you don’t have all the answers.

A truth you somehow

still haven’t accepted yet.

All you do know is two things:

One.

On a scale of 1 to 10

your pain is

“I don’t know,

just make it stop.”

And two.

Once the blood is finally out, you feel

both a little better and a little scared.

And you don’t really know why.

Is this why we bleed?

You ask yourself.

Is this why we sacrifice?

For the sake

of others?

Is this why we’re here?

To just keep giving and giving and giving

away?

When all you want is just

one thing for yourself?

On one of your final class days,

your professor insisted on reminding all of you that

all humans will one day eventually die.

You would know.

You’ve been down this road

one too many times.

You’re on it right now

sitting on your bathroom floor

sacrificing yourself

for no one at all.