Journal Sessions: Period Poem
- Danielle Arama
- May 11, 2017
- 1 min read

Finding words
gets a little bit harder
at the end
of the month
Like catching fish
in the bay
today
compared to a generation
or two
ago
Like seeing the world
through the opposite
of rose-colored glasses
and looking into the mirror
unable
to take them
off
Like watching water begin
to bubble
and willing it not
to boil
by asking
nicely
Like a fallen kite
in the sand
wanting
to sink
deeper
out of embarrassment.
Not stopping to think
it's not her fault
that there is no wind
today.
Not remembering
that someday soon
she
will
soar
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