About effing PMS

There's a hungry, mean lion in the small of my back
Mane in my right hip as its tail whips my left.
Sometimes it reaches through my pelvis
Into my womb,
Slivering it in half; no anaesthesia.

Two green beastly carnivores
Rest in my knees. They eat cartilage and chew on my bone
They stretch those thigh-long limbs in square-centimetre space
Consuming, delivering, leaving pain Post-its.

A crazy red bee buzzes in my frontal lobe
And my temper races with my flash of impulse
I see red, I see green, I see everything in between.
Acid leaps, fires wind their way through
Yet the crazy red bee buzzes, buzzes.

Breasts mauled by a shape-shifting ogre
Who rests on my heart on such days
Bra-less seems like a good idea. Sagging be damned.
There's relief in a Brufen, there's relief in heat
But it will be blood that will kill these beasts


*****