Menstruation
They say, its an utter shame to have periods
Little do they know, its the same blood from which they are enclosed in their mother’s womb
Adapted by the menstruation taboos and myths
She adopts the heedless yearning to know the truth
Of which excavates all that she knew none
But drips of unhygienic infections which you won’t call impure, merely because you are indifferent
To have called periods an abhorrence
So we keep it as an undisclosed topic
What about her being deprived of what she cries for, her essential need at that moment
Blood dribbles and dribbles along with the burden laden upon her shoulders
Is it too obnoxious to call out for it
She’s numbed to afford it
Filled with purified elements, I’d call it a river
Inter whining the sparks of its flowing tenderness
I’m proud to say that it is natural
Goes with the flow
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