Sacrifice

I felt the failed birth pouring out of my walls

And onto the pad that couldn't go on.

I felt it: thick, wet, oozing to another place.

A place it wasn't allowed to roam.

It was too early to get up on a Saturday morning.

I got up anyway. I had to get up,

Before it got worse.

Who am I kidding?

It's always heavy on the first day.

And it was heavy today.

I reeked of a failed birth, and I would reek of it

Until my time was done.

Until the Period Goddesses were through with me.

And then I'd see them again for my next monthly appointment.

But, oh, the unfortunate that fell upon me that dreadful morning,

As I pulled my pajamas down in the heavenly polished bathroom.

There was one survivor, which meant two survivors.

My favorite pajama pants

(Of which my brother had an identical pair)

Had lived to see the early Saturday morning.

And thankfully, too, for my bedsheets that night were fresh.

But I lost someone dear to me that morning.

Her name was Victoria.

And even if I couldn't tell from her safe, secretive, night fabric,

I knew that she didn't make it.

She was the one who had held my burden those nine hours.

If only she had been in the laundry for one more day,

She would've been spared.

No, if I hadn't chosen her.

But I always choose her.

I trusted her more than anyone else

To keep my secrets from spilling free.

She never let them slip, not even on the first days.

But, today, the Period Goddesses had been merciless to all.

Today, my sweet Victoria let it all spill.

I didn't feel betrayed.

Victoria loved me and I loved her.

That was always enough.

I carried her to the infirmary to check on her injuries.

She fell into the water, and instantly,

The water turned to that disgusting copper.

The Period Goddesses were indeed merciless.

Again, because she insisted on being secretive

(It was in her name after all),

I didn't know where to wash her.

I emptied the wash bin of the copper scent

And filled it with clean water.

I scrubbed her every inch

Until I determined her to be clean of her sins.

She stayed at the infirmary today.

I visited her while on my way to change.

I told her it wasn't her fault.

I told her she'd be back with me soon.

Victoria never believed me.

It didn't matter to her if I shared my secrets.

She never shared hers.