a perfect streak
of rambling
i drank myself to death
upon words
and heaved them back up
on to pages
until i was withered
with knowing
well-edited
and scrawled across cages
of perfectly spaced lines
isn’t it beautiful?
isn’t it terrifying?
the way the mind
has created a way to connect
the patterns
the apex of communication
writing
in my hands
untethered
each unsent letter becomes
a cry
a space for hope
a vacancy that needs filling
the ever-present drilling
searching for the right word
So I do not remain unheard
this thought forming
put to paper
my death is a grand escape
poets plague
scratched and taped
back together
a short form
content creation
My utter vexation
is showing myself
haphazardly spelt
and submitted.
Supposedly
It’s better to get it out
than have it perfectly fitted.
a perfect streak of rambling, 2025.
This poem is my ramblings on the (at times painful) search for perfection in my writing and how sometimes it’s better to just send it out into the world and hope for the best. Don’t catch me sideways with my Grammarly.
the lowercase i’s are a personal aesthetic choice, not an oversight.
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Lindsey Rose considers herself a Creative Alchemist. She is an artist, writer, poet, dancer, herbalist, and professional tarot reader. Through the alchemy of creativity, she has found the greatest healing and hopes to inspire others to do the same.
Follow at www.mystikrosearts.com or on YouTube