Bleed me monthly razor blade boy.

by blossom666

A battle ground of death

bleeding scars resurected

as oxygen is starved

to the contracting walls.

The unforgotten rip in

reality, a monthly machete

led torturous reminder.

Razor blades cut long and deep,

As blood spills begins to seep. 

An implosion upon implosion

Of this wondrous female motion. 

And people wonder what the fuck

is the commotion!! 

Let me sit here upon the floor as

death takes me and I feel no more. 

Or at least until the pain killers 

Kick in and the constant drumming 

Of razor blade boy slows to a rhymythic

Numbness as I forge war upon biology.

*This poem is about menstruation.

Karen Hayward. ©2016.