Red

I dreaded the day I
would become a woman.
That dark red spot
was another thing to hate my body for.
It was another thing I
was not in control of.
It meant I was physically
ready for things I could not fathom.
It meant my body could
belong to a man,
when I did not even
want it.

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4 thoughts on “Red

  1. Yes! That’s just how I felt. I’ve never met any other woman who admitted to feeling the way I did. To many, it’s considered a cause for celebration, but I didn’t want to be a woman. It made me feel dirty, and the feeling never left me until I hit the menopause, dispite the fact that I happily bore four children.
    I know that some bloggers like to be asked for permission to reblog posts, so I’m asking: Can I reblog this wonderful poem, please.

    Liked by 1 person

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