"Red Tide" It starts like a whisper deep in my spine, A tug, a twist — a secret sign. Then comes the ache, the dull, slow swell, A storm that rises where silence fell. Red tide flows in, unasked, unspoken, A mark of life, yet I feel broken. Cramps curl in like clenched-up fists, Mood swings dancing through heavy mists. I bleed like the moon does — full then waning, Strong in my body but quietly straining. Hot water bottles, midnight sighs, Tired eyes and bloodshot cries. Don’t call it gross, don’t call it weak, This is power, though it makes me bleak. It’s pain with purpose, month by month, A rhythm stitched in every grunt. I wear black pants and careful steps, Count the pads and take deep breaths. And still I smile, I laugh, I try, While hormones rage and reason flies. Don’t ask me why I snapped today — Ask my uterus, it led the way. But don’t reduce me to my mess, I bleed, I break — and still I bless. So when the red tide pulls me low, Know I’m still fire beneath the flow. A bleeding girl is not a flaw — She is a force that rewrites the law . ( To the boys out their who don't understand here you go ... ) .