Will the Circle be Unbroken?

 Around the 27th of every month I become filled with female rage. I feel the rage of my female ancestors firing through my DNA and I want to light the men of the world on fire. 

While I wait for my rage to build I read a lot of feminist poetry, feminist instagram posts and watch whatever insanely overtly feminist tv I can. I become so consumed with this female rage that my witch powers finally come to fruition, and I begin the process of gathering my coven of witch friends. We make vague plans to fly over cities and put spells on all the white nationalists--nothing too concrete because we have to meet up by the light of the full moon to power up our crystals first. 

And right as that righteous witchy rage reaches its pinnacle, my body detoxes all of its iron and honestly? I'M JUST TOO F-ING TIRED TO DEAL! 

And DAMNIT! I forgot to charge my crystals by the light of the full moon! 

And all that generational rage turns into generational exhaustion and I decide to do what my female ancestors were unable to do: take a rager of a nap and bite through midol like I'm chewing a handful of nerds. 

My iron detox ends and then I become interested in composting and green beauty again--just real middle aged white woman shiz. I start to say things like "I'll just have something light, like a salad or soup for dinner" again. All my angry and hungry witch powers seeped out of me with all of my endometrial gunk. I feel fine, and don't yell at the old man wearing a Vietnam Veteran hat who pulled into the parking spot I was waiting for. I even return all of the things I bought online. 

I feel fine.

Normal.

And then the 27th day hits again and I howl at the moon "Where my coven bitches at?!"