Saturday, 8 August 2015

the painters are in.

Blood comes
Red splashed on white
A surprise once,
I never expected 
The unexpected again
But here it is, red
Thick, heavy
Unflinching, red

I stare
A week late, I figured
It might never come
Hoped, it might have realised 
It wasn't supposed to be 

Always an abstract,
No meaning, of little consequence
Besides a little 
Inconvenience 
Now, unlike that regular beat
Usually maintained, undisturbed

My heart sinks

Here it is
Unflinching, red
Red splashed on white
Resisting the inevitable is
Futile, but I can't help thinking,
Sooner than most
Maybe it'll move on
Decide that it's good for
Nothing here, in this body
That doesn't belong

A crimson smudge of
Womanhood, motherhood
Rites of passages that 
I no longer claim
Take it, take it, please
It brings, not a routine comfort
A smear of identity, no,

A sticky, hot reminder
Of who I no longer am
A place I can't return to
A void I have yet to fill
I am stained with 
Indignity, falsity 
And there's nothing I can do

But wait 
As the blood runs, red
Until it runs dry
And I can put the pieces
Back together again.



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