Purity

the infatuation of my menstruation as you sit and pout like this isn't living because yes this is not your treasure for you irritate the thought of innocent blood stained tears are passed through my souls heart monthly i weep through christ an yet you are envious of my female purpose as god glides through me as i'm not your wife for these are the times of peace a sign that only mary could cease to behold thy beauty covered in such reddness for i shall not be vain as it rains and pours the sadness from a fruitful tree that brings life right on thy tables where you sit and stare wondering if i shall break in all this wondrous bloodied gift for can i be fooled right back after this purification of thy body one in me with me for will you hold my hand as i grieve the dead babies blood shed of my blood or shall you run out for more napkins as my grief too much for you to bare as i bleed the blood of christ's care