Thursday, February 01, 2007

P M S.

Your head hurts,
Your stomach rolls
You feel drained,
You lose control

You curse God
You curse Nature
For gifting you
With this monthly torture

Shallow eyes
Sleepless nights
Easy arguments
Quicker fights

Fiery temper
Weak in the legs
Drunken stupor
Stop it, I begs

Take it back
Gift of woe
I willingly offer
Take it and go.

Had posted this once before here. But a topic like this, deserves mention. Over and over again.
*shuffles away, feeling miserable*.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Aapke charan kahan hai? Toinks mata ki jai ho!

Not to forget the *ahem frustrated husband, also becomes indirectly PMSsy, making the arguments even more frequent.. :D

Hyde said...

My momma once said to Edwina- Calcium and Iron are your best friends. Never forget them.

My momma, not your doting daughter.

jedi said...

get pregnant? :p

Tinky Toinkers said...

anony: jai ho jai ho ;)

hyde: did she mention anything for the nausea?

jedi: try pushing an elephant through a rat hole? joy.

E said...

Strange our mothers never had them somehow.

Alien said...

[e]: ... u bet!!

austere said...

Well. I'm from the "shut up and put up with it" school. No shortcuts. I go completely silent.

Waiting a few years to be premenopausal and really horridlywickedly bitchy. Some good from them hormones, eh.