The Fault of the Moon
By Bridgitte Thao, 18, Minnesota
Just as the ocean’s tides recede,
the waves always come back to feed.
Just as once a month I begin to bleed,
I always wonder, “What’s the need?”
When the red of my veins soaks the sheets,
and the cramping pain of marching soldiers creeps,
and I must limit what I eat,
I always wonder, “What’s the need?”
Is it my soul that causes me to bleed?
The one that toils achingly to succeed?
My soul, whose ambitions hint at greed,
like a wealthy dragon guarding its keep?
Or is my heart behind this stream?
The one that yearns for an icy breeze?
That beats day in and out, hoping to be freed,
my heart that pumps this blood I bleed?
Perhaps my mind is behind this deed,
always turning, never letting me sleep,
keeping me up until three fifteen
sobbing until I can’t breathe.
Why, every month, do I bleed?
What beast does this blood feed?
At the mere age of sixteen,
the times I have bled are over sixty.
Why does the moon move so mean?
Why does it never let me keep
my clothes stain-free or my white sheets?
Where are my painless nights and sunny weeks?
Why do I bear this periodic curse with defeat?
We have conquered mountains with our bare feet!
What force of terror keeps us from relief?
Why do the ocean’s tides recede?
In the spirit of Halloween and October, I thought I’d write about something that scares a majority of the general population: menstruation! As I’ve gotten older, it seems that larger swaths of society are normalizing conversations about menstrual sanitation and equity. However, within the realm of art, the topic of menstruation inspires much less fascination. Through this piece, I wanted to inject the subject of periods with a mysticism that we often associate with magical occurrences. Against the backdrop of the moon, periods cycle through menstruators like a phantom. They induce a state of mind that drives one mad. They create such tangible, immense pain, but the causes are never so clear-cut. What forces of the universe subject us to these monthly visits? What are the intentions of these forces? Such are the questions I hope to inspire through this piece that both scorns and deifies menstruation.
Instagram: @theebridgitte
