P(esky) M(onthly) S(truggles)

There are mornings when I simply know

That my peace of mind is about to go

Go far away into a land unknown

A place before puberty I'd grown

These mornings are oft a monthly affair

Akin to being flung down many a-stair

They start with a heaviness absolute

Perhaps even a demented right boob

The soreness seems to penetrate 

From epicenter down to prostate

And just when I thought it couldn't get worse

A horrendous dump knocks - an intestinal curse

In a fetal position, somehow I rise

As though in my eighties I'm nearing demise

Atop the pot my limbs give way

I'm only a torso, painful passageway

With stubborn emission I huff and heave

Giving myself a headache, would you believe?

I begin to count my body parts undone

My brain, my arms, my back for one

Also, my calves and shoulders and left knee

It's all a massive pile of hormonal debris

Rising once more, now in the mold of a squat

I head straight for the bed, where get up I shall not.


~For more period rambles, look here.