See, I’ve bled and I’ve groaned, but you reap what you sow

I have a vagina with a mind of its own. 

Every month, without missing a beat,

my boobs hurt, and so do my feet.

As if that weren’t enough,

I have a liter of blood — 

stained sheets,

and a desperate heart

accompanying me.

I tried all the classics — pads and tampons, as many of you know. 

But something about cotton near my vulva was a simple no-go.

I was searching for better — a comfort of sorts.

My wishes were answered with my beloved, 

the one to which I ode:

my diva cup, 

my purple hero.

An impeccable food pantry find, ready for a home. 

My sustainable cup, full of my menstrual hope. 

These last three years were all I could want,

My dear diva cup, it is you that I flaunt. 

Very discrete and complete with ease,

Every month I look forward to our silly little tease.

Now I live my life, free from fear of a leak. 

Now I live my life, with a pure-hearted peak. 

Some think you’re weird, but I think you’re perfect.

Some think you’re gross, but so are all things that are worth it. 

XOXO,

A Diva Cup Warrior