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Poppy Perry May 2015
Today is Menstrual Hygiene Day
But I don't feel very clean
Because you can wash the outside
But even in 2015
Even in these realms of gender equality
And liberty on how to be sanitary
There's no solution for
internal Hygiene
And my blood that's not blood
This muddy flood more than ******
Is somehow still obscene

Today is Menstrual Hygiene Day
Today is a day I am 'on'
The switch is flicked
Blood engaged
And desirability gone
A secret leak, girls so meek
Whisper requests to friends
For dry bleached cotton to stuff and to mend
A recurring trend of defence and anxious bends
To stop the sprawling reddish brownish stain
Of the unexplained fertile woman shame

Today is Menstrual Hygiene Day
Girls in this world are dying and sick
This day promotes an unfortunate fix
Of our wealthy model that still prefers *****
That shows ***** on screens but never female produce
That allows 'I have a cold' but not 'I'm losing some ******'  
'feminine hygeine' aisles,
not 'period supplies' or 'Menstruals'
Disguised packets essential,
to store myself in,
Yet I've never glimpsed the contents of a sanitary bin,

It's Menstrual Hygeine Day
I hygienically ******* today
So I don't understand why this man
Will feel me on his chin and hands
But when the calendar strikes four
It doesn't do it anymore
I'm on and your off
I'm on and turning on stops  
Between my legs this mess
These dregs of last month make me less
Than my best or even a success
At being a woman despite my *******
And my fully functioning, leaking flesh
The appeal is repealed when you feel some real feels
And I continue to walk without showing pain  
To avoid any questions I cannot sustain

Today is Menstrual Hygiene Day
I take my pills for my mahogany strain
I didnt realise from my first stain
What was normal for bloodshed and symptoms and pain,
My packets talk in grams and the doctors in millilitres
My bedsheets spoke volumes and mattress screamed deeper
My knickers whispered ****** and my thighs of a foetus
Stressed and grievous
I don't live in Nepal, I'm lucky for my resources
And the understanding nature of modern social forces
You haven't  degradated or segrated this hateful female fate starting
But I'm far from delighted with the slight common sense parting
When I've seen these secret unfair truths
As normal until there's something compare to
Why do we teach shame and silence
For another simple act of natural violence?
Why will you handle dirt and dead meat,
But not a person alive and craving your heat
And I am sick of my flowers  and unclean until the even
Of my life and one quarter of my natural season

Today is Menstrual Hygiene Day
But I don't feel very clean
Because I've washed and washed the outside
But there's blood all down the seams
Nike Kaffezakis Dec 2014
Your love is like a trip
to the dentist.
Every time you’re in my arms
like laughing gas
I fall victim to your charms.
And though that said
as an adult, I would not hurt
I pain when you’re away.
But it’s a treat in the end, your
absence is short.
I know the pain of separation will be
fixed with well-placed braces;
It’s unbearable now, but it’s only fluoride
to wipe out bacterial traces.
Yes, our love could be more hygienically kept,
But each visit brings
great excitement unexpected, yet.
There are times regrettable,
And shyness certainly starts me quivering.
Still, each day with you leaves me
smiling,
So fresh that I’m shivering.
Joe Cole Feb 2015
A follow on to I Got Natural Eemunity

You know when I was a kid in a large family
We never had much money
So we had a bath only once a week
Simply because heating water cost money
Something we didn't have
A simple way of life eating simple food
Anyway days at school were spent alongside rich kids
In their spotlessly clean uniforms
With their sniffles and coughs and runny noses
Spluttering over their hygienically prepared lunch boxes
But
Us poor kids with a cheese sandwich in a paper bag
Rarely got a cough or cold
Jack Swanson Apr 2015
What if I was perfect?
Would I miss making mistakes?
Moreover,
Would the mistakes miss breaking me?
It depends how I perceive,
Whether or not it may deceive,
What this life has in store for me.
Would I lavish in fame?
Or
Would I succumb to shame?
Waking up hygienically sustained,
No comb,
Nor Brush,
Rather
Symmetrically retained.
Could I handle the resentment?
Or
The wannabes that lurk in a basement?
From ***** looks,
To grossly stained shirts,
There is just too much to look out for.
What is it about being perfect that is so great?
All that arises are questions that dictate.
It must be fate,
For man to initiate,
Against the ones who they relish to be.
If that’s what it takes to be number one,
I’ll be done before I've begun.
4/16/15

— The End —