Jovial and content, happy, playful, sweet, a way of living has evolved from haphazard, crazed dreams. Where I tumbled from one scene to another, trying to find where I belonged, acceptance, love, were what I was seeking, the line thrown to reach them rigid and taut. No more slapdash or faux pas moments, lacking of personal respect or dignity, when trying to be cool, outgoing, effervescently fun, doesn’t the truth sometimes prove itself so sad, that tale to read? The invisible ink in my journal runs, of catharsis, I’ve no longer any need. The party girl, while wild and popular, only appeals in that moment, out of context, her vivaciousness can overwhelm, I’d rather sit quietly, penning a soliloquy, read a beautiful sonnet, or appreciate a heartfelt song. Darker tales there are to tell, crawling amongst soot, filth, and grime, an underlining of their facts, they are acknowledged, here recognised, if I were more civilised, I’d toast them away with you with hearty glasses of rich, health-coloured wine. No real compatibility determined, so many met, yet my personality, heart, looks, or mind, did not seem to fit, finally, I realised I needed to be happy, accepting, and loving to myself, first and foremost, only me. With true acceptance came an overwhelming sense of realisation, an understanding of how much I’d lost myself in the naivety, the flighty dreaming of youth, the one true love I first needed was myself, and only then could l reach out for the hand of another, this is truth, to have, to hold, to care, to acknowledge as a warming, doting other, someone who will always be there. © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by StockSnap from Pixabay
YouTube Poem videos: Lauren M. Hancock Poetry
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