Happy International Women’s Day! I spent the morning in training with some remarkable women learning about how to help students prepare presentations of learning. Then, I spent the afternoon with a female secondary student putting in the hard work to graduate this year despite the odds.

Now, I’ve decided to share a poem that I wrote about my menstrual cycle. I think this day should not only be about celebrating amazing women past and present, but also about de-stigmatizing the experiences of women, especially the ones that continue to be taboo. So many of the stereotypes about women come from these differences, and so, here is my honest look at ovulation.

“…and you will be like God” Liz Darling, 2014


I do not feel like producing an egg this month,

so, I do as Buddah,

meditate on my ovaries.

“The cycle can be broken”

becomes my mantra.

I replay it like a drum,

screaming it out loud in boutiques

and health food stores,

whichever works best.

I envision the mad cow of fertility,

and beg it to close it’s eyes,

and after all I’ve done for it

over the reproductive years,

sleep a cycle for me.

I cross my legs more frequently;

I don’t know why I do this.

I stand in front of microwaves

basking like a sun tanner

catching radiation at angles.

I spend shriveled hours

in sleepy time tubs,

whispering in futility,

“Sleep cervix, sleep.”

Near mid month,

when I feel the sharp pop

of the pinball in the

game over slot,

it’s a betrayal.

I scold my ovaries.

Stare them down

in full-length mirrors,

switch tactics,

exercise wildly,

lot’s of crunches

to will my tubes

into water slides,

coerce my cave of wonder

to “Open Sesame,”

so that my body’s unwanted thief

can pass through.

And when the cycle comes

full circle.

The egg has died.

A radiated, dehydrated victim

in my own personal nuclear fall out.

Expelled and deovulated.

© 2023 | K. Hartless


  1. What an important topic to write about on International Women’s Day. We don’t talk enough about our cycles and all the changes our bodies go through. I’m inching toward menopause and have noticed a few changes, and it’s not something I’m familiar with as barely anyone talks about it. Thank you for sharing this poem and for shedding light on what we go through every single month.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Bridgette. I also see changes on the horizon. It’s wonderful if my poem makes you feel bold in expressing issues of this nature. I think demystifying these things will lead to greater acceptance and gender equality in the future. 💜

      Liked by 1 person

    • Oh man. I can only imagine, my friend. The final frontier is definitely menopause. And now, my daughter, just starting her cycles. I hope she finds the future to be more liberated than the present. Thanks for reading and commenting here.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s