Blood is a Blessing

Red blood. Viscous. Alive.

It’s nothing to be afraid of, or ashamed of.

Nothing to remove or add - this is the definition of perfection.

These feelings of discomfort that arise seeing a woman bleeding from her womb -

Who planted them in you? And why, Sister, why are you letting them live in you? And why, Brother, did you ever ask me to hide?

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Bleeding is how we detox

It’s how we release all that we carry

And oh, the mighty burdens we carry

These feelings, these responsibilities, these names

This responsibility to feel placed on us just because we’re powerful women

Power is a privilege, but even warriors have to clean their swords.

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Bleeding, it’s how we make way for new life.

You best believe before you were conceived

Your mother had a mighty bleed

That was a sibling that could've been

Or an energy she banished, she said, 'This won't be part of your inheritance.'

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I’m done caring about others’ discomfort with the mana from my legs

I feel anger that I had to question sharing my free bleed

Do you think our ancestors cared when red honey dripped from their legs?

They went into sacred space only meant for them, with other women who bled

What do you think they talked about?

How graceful their silence must have been...

Are we the primitive ones?

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If you bleed, can you celebrate it?

It’s an invitation

The Divine Feminine is rising

Snakes gotta shed their skin

And wombs, they bleed.

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What a blessing, to walk on red earth.