I don’t think it’s pertinent to share all. I don’t believe it is wise to give everything away; this is something I need to inherently grasp and know. Because throwing precious hurt and gnarled knots of hardened truth, for revelation’s sake, for honesty, for letting go, and giving it all away, it no longer always seems the right thing to do. But, I am who I am, and I will continue providing my hopes, my pain, my anguish, my joys to the wind, in the hopes that when these whisper, the conjoining of their pitches and hisses, perhaps I’ll truly understand how I was meant to be, to have lived a life free of err and sin, without selfish exploration and untidy needs. And try to understand: who would I have been if I had achieved these? I will tell you this, I’ll continue to share, and these moments and opportunities seem always there; they will stoically sit, before me, before us all, because I’ve already jigged a jig, flamboyantly swept my form, sung my ballads, cast my hurt in the direction of the audience’s rows. The shrill, the unseemly, the affected, the melodies, strewn before you painfully, sometimes pitifully, I bare myself to you, my soul is on show. I’ve given and I’ve shared, and though I felt better for it, perhaps it’s not actually wise, is it, to divulge every single piece of it… © 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
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Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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