This poem is about the red in empoweRED. The red in lipstick, red flags, passion, triggers, and even periods. Why is it that some are desireable, some are dangerous, and some are shameful? Isn't it all the same color? They're just different shades of power. I haven’t fully unlearned my shame, so my poem is a little scattered. I hope the message still came through: my desire & commitment to love all my shades of red. She loved red lipstick, but hated its stains; Smeared on coffee cups & other’s lips, She took fewer bites & smaller sips. And careful pecks to keep the color within it’s lines, Pristine & refined, Straight & confined. But it still bled without shame, Onto clothes, teeth, noses and hanes. Perhaps it reminded her of those blood-stained hanes, When her period hits like a driver less train. She wakes up to find its bloody name Stamped in red on her partner’s bed, Bloodshed to shed any games. “Can you handle this” it writes, “Are you fight or flight?” Irregardless of whether it's the first year or first night. But sometimes, blood stains
will make way to magic. Both a Red Dress & Red Flag come from the same fabric. Whether it’s a Trigger, Warning, Desire or Calling, She’s flown her colors free of your meaning. Now listen to our uteri’s lesson: We didn’t ask for your judgment, That’s a period. Not a question. -Samirah Shri
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About MeMy name is Samirah Shri. I write poetry especially for "bad" Asian daughters, but also for anyone who feels rejected within their communities. My poems guide you along my personal journey of rejection, healing, and ultimately re-connection. |