I hate it when I leak,
I hate it when I ooze.
I contain my mental shriek
as I feel my womb coming loose.
Everywhere I lie,
I leave a stain.
The cramp in my shut thigh,
The smell of my red pain
The horror of my seed
draining in clotted blood,
I must suffer and let bleed.
My share is the crimson flood.
Need I explain my wish to destroy
Him, whose seed-letting is such a joy?

Best-gift-for-Daughters

Poet: Jyotsna Yedem

Jyotsna describes herself as a twenty-something who still dreads her periods and sometimes fantasizes about getting her uterus removed. She is addicted to facebook, enjoys reading superhero comics, feminism, and, in fact, any ideas that question outdated norms. She also likes listening to what she calls “Angry Girl Music.” She did her MA in English at the Central University of Hyderabad and enjoys editing and working with words, not least because this helps her pay her bills. She blogs at I at my lone roof

*the title of the poem is taken from the internet