Period

That bloody period, how annoyed at thee. Allot less confident and carefree, drain on the woman's body. Dirty tiresome, fact that lubricant ends with you aunty flow. Twenty something days a month, hardly enough to enjoy female feelings just p. m. t,   p. m. s , then menopausal heatwave breaks the cycle from woman to hag. Period for great grief the blotchy  pain, the dry pipe remains. Am I still the girl to remember, not worth anything this aftermath of barren quarters. Sad, angry miserable too, all over the sight and disappearance of the young period.