Tampons: to the men who say that Tampons are a luxury item (A Spoken Word Poem)
A/N: I wrote this on the train to Glasgow on my iPod, it's something rather close to my heart, but I don't think I've done the cause much justice. I'm really into spoken word poetry, especially those you can watch on Button Poetry's YouTube Channel. Again, this is my first spoken word poem, so please be nice. Constructive Criticism is welcomed!
TAMPONS: TO THE MEN WHO SAY THAT TAMPONS ARE A LUXURY ITEM
You say that this is a luxury; that stopping the bleeding from my vagina is not a necessity. Really, not a necessity? YOU do not have a vagina; you do not have to go through the hell of bleeding for three-five days every month. Sometimes it's more than five days, and you expect me to spend £3.45 on a poxy box of 20 tampons, when you can go to the doctors or the clinic and get condoms for free? Oh yes of course, sex is a necessity! No, no it is not. Sexual intercourse is an inessential desire, a pleasure. It is an intimate bond between you and another person. I have an intimate bond with my fucking tampons, but it is not for pleasure. I don't enjoy shoving a wad of cotton up into the depths of my body to lessen the bleeding. Oh I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable? Why are you so frightened of the idea of vaginas and their ability to bleed profusely without actually killing us? A bleeding vagina is not a monster, yet you seem to believe it is. Ah yes, next on our tour is the Vagasarous Rex, known for its love of smooth jazz, intermittent spa days and the blood of twelve sacrificial virgins. Yes, the vagina is a blatant mutated monster, not a sexual organ, if you're to approach it, do so with caution. Be wary of lucifer's unholy hellfire, it leaks once a month and women don't even break a sweat.
If I was to go to the doctor's about the Devil's crimson waterfall that I did not fucking ask for I would be laughed out of the surgery and told to go to the nearest store to BUY what I need. I have to PAY for tampons just to prevent the flow of this bloody tidal wave from destroying my good pants. I cannot afford to buy pretty lace underwear; all my money is being consumed by the tampon man as society is telling us girls that they are a luxury. Oh yes, because blood leaking out of our vaginas is a gooddamn luxury. It is something we so clearly asked for. Of course it is, thank you society for letting us girls know that this natural, bodily function is a fucking delight that we asked to happen. No. No. No. No. We did not ask for this, for the cramps, the backache, the sore breasts, the mood swings. No. We did not ask for this monthly subscription. That's what periods are like. They're like the shitty junk mail you get in the post, despite ticking the box online saying that you didn't want to receive any junk. But our only way to unsubscribe to this junk mail is to barter with the seller, compromising with them by agreeing to buy something else to stop the junk from coming through our letter box.
Our only way to compromise with Mother Nature's flow is to agree to build something inside our uteri like we would if we were playing with jenga blocks. We are not reproductive robots; we are not baby making machines. We are human beings too. Do not expect us to sit back and stay silent when your luxuries are treated as necessities and our necessities are treated as luxuries. We will not be silenced. We have a right, a voice, a cause to believe in. Stop telling young girls that these things don't matter because they do. Stop taxing our tampons and trying to justify it with bullshit. Open your eyes, more than half of the population is made up of monthly bleeding women. Wives, daughters, girlfriends, mums... relinquish the taxing of tampons. Stop making women feel disgusted in themselves for something that their body does differently to yours.
To the men in the room who think that tampons are a luxury item, you couldn't be more wrong.