My Time of the Month

I think I’ve a cycle a monthly mindful when I will write more mind will rhyme pour with ease and a flex I see readied text a pick and or mix choice with index pen down at pace ideas not too waste on my hand my face capture to place and given within is rhythm too win tight writes begin like church bells ring and I really go fly smooth with flow overthinking loads then damaging rows long winded loose hinges from great rhyme fringe to cringington cringes however one poem will prevail do well and I’ll buzz and I’ll rush forgetting rubbish writes of sludge seek a new write a rhyme alike set too the standard but my mind now hampered nothing happens complete silence I can’t see or sense words the brain of a bird rhythm wants to occur but just goes nurr burr turr I have a time of the month for rhyming when I tampax it and catch a flow for writing the seeds bringing to life rhyme bleeding pen strings pictures your mind