I bleed red.

Every month, I bleed red.

When the days are around,

When the cycle starts its count,

I bleed red.

It gives me a chance,

To grow, to bloom,

To nurture, to transform,

To give birth, to reborn.

Yes, I bleed red.

It gives me the pain,

It gives me the reason,

To be someone of my own,

A woman, a daughter, a mother.

I receive the blessing to be called,

A queen, a warrior.

Yes, I bleed red.

It gifts me the purpose of life,

A way to live life to the fullest,

And to journey, beyond.

This is what I am proud of,

Surviving the fight, every month, I reborn.

Yes, I bleed red.

To speak it aloud,

I am never ashamed.

For in red, I find,

My voice, my glory

My name, my story.

 

[ This poem is also posted as a Guest Post in a blog named “Being A Thinkaholic” by blogger Arushi Seth.  Read the poem here. ]