I was told to write a poem about sports. So this is what I wrote instead. (Should shout out to Salena Godden who inspired this with her poem RED)


I am bleeding out of my vagina and this is more than I can take 

I want to curl up foetal like, sleep and eat cake

All my serotonin’s gone, my battery is dead

My words don’t come out in the order right from my head

And then there’s all this gushing, rushing, 

knicker soiling, sex spoiling, lining of my womb,

All the hues of red from burgundy to magenta

All the blood from hymen to placenta 

All the bloody, blood, blood

Every month, soaking, shedding 

All over my bedding  

And I don’t want to go roller skating or sky diving or wear shorts

Having my period is my excuse not to do sports

It’s the reason to sit still, be quiet and eat cake

And say fuck off. The rest of the world can wait

And I tell my boyfriend, that is is just how I get

When I haven’t been impregnated yet

And he looks at me, and says:

‘I’ll cook you dinner hun

when I get back from my run…’

Clair Whitefield