I hope you all don't mind my rambling on, but I find poetry to be very theraputic. After all, laughter is the best medicine.
My surgery is next week, but that Aunt Flo is sure going out with a bang! I've created a sonnet, just for this occasion:
When I was twelve, you chose to make your presence known.
I heard so much about you, and felt so mature.
It was during this time, that my hormones began to stir.
Then the cramps got so bad, all I could do was moan.
Aunt Flo, you were aggressive, hostile, and mad.
My poor little body was doubled over in pain.
Missed days, dirty clothes, heavy bleeding like rain.
The thick pads and Advils made me grumpy and sad.
Now I'm patiently waiting for the day of your eviction.
You showed up this week; you are so mean!
The pain is intolerable, I can't help but scream!
"No other options," that's my conviction.
A life without pain, how promising and bright.
Next week I will walk towards the light.
~~Good-bye Aunt Flo~~
It is time for you to pack up and go!