Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Month: July 2020

Poem: Paper-Thin – 02/07/20

Poem: Paper-Thin – 02/07/20

Some may view me as mechanically sound,
for I smile quite naturally 
and talk with a 
lilting, confident tone.

My words are 
humorous, relaxed, and 'well',
they don’t know what’s 
hiding inside,
the astringent sadness, she overwhelms.
 
Internally, I feel stretched, 
as though a
punishing thin layer
has been made out of me,

a conglomeration of 
bones, tendons, sinew
enters the picture,

a rolled flat image 
from my pieces,
made from my core,
I am thin, thin, thin;
you can almost see through me.
 
I am not ticking timepieces and 
cogs well oiled,
I am bits of paper-thin 
skin and bone
attended to with the most 
callous of ease,

the beings who made me 
into this sheet
of paper-thin madness,
is the prior mentioned 
Mistress of Sadness,
and her partner, 
Despicable Depression.
 
These two are entwined with the
same cruel feelings, 
they feed off one another,
take victims cold and easily,
they mean harm, I promise,
when I explain, when I say,
that Mistress and Despicable 
aim at pulverising,
they’ve already done me, 
haven’t they?
 
I have been made into a 
sheet of nothingness,
my structure broken and melted and flattened,
I do not know how I’m meant to feel
or be
or understand,
that my existence is but a sham,
 
I wear that smile,
I wear this wellness,
so people won’t misunderstand.
 
The thinness is a curse.
I am truly damned.  
 
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by PIRO4D from Pixabay

Return to All Posts

YouTube Poem videos: Lauren M. Hancock Poetry

Soundcloud Poem Readings

Poem: Beneath My Layers – 01/07/20

Poem: Beneath My Layers – 01/07/20

Sometimes,
occasionally,
I feel like I’m coming back to life.
 
When the outer layers
peel down and around me,
revealing the
scintillating softness inside.
 
So curious am I to
view and feel and touch
this part of my identity,
where I am 
completely vulnerable and wholesome
and completely, utterly me.
 
This nature of myself 
is obvious to all,
yet still some are oblivious,

they are unused to this 
type of enthrall
in which I project a 
certain quietness,

an ethereal truth that 
whispers and ebbs
and flows
amongst the undergrowth -

these moments are special,
they herald timely news.
 
The tactile response of
hand upon softness
upon treasured flesh 
upon raw skin,

surrounded by that 
delicate fog,
sensations
of seeking something 
internally,
 
I’m curious,
what does this 
softness of myself
really mean?

Am I gentle?
Does my kindness live nestled in 
the undergrowth,
behind those protective outer layers?
 
Should I keep revealing this side,
this part of me,
so vulnerable I am
to others?
 
It’s as though I’m a
lost babe in the woods,
bare and so innocent,
I smile, grin with a
single infant tooth,
 
I am away from home,
yet I am right here,
there is nothing to worry for,
be concerned about,
to fear,
because my softness
is finally here,
 
and of my strength,
such internal,
unseen strength,
I am quietly aware.  
 
Beneath the layers,
I’ve finally found myself
and I am so proud 
to be here.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
Image by Marjon Besteman-Horn from Pixabay

Return to All Posts

YouTube Poem videos: Lauren M. Hancock Poetry

SoundCloud Poem Readings

Poem: I Cherish – 01/07/20

I cherish:
the wind whipping about my hair,
the still-bitter taste of sweetened coffee –
it reminds me life’s not always sweet.
The taste of crunchy cereal in the evenings,
the gentle tap-tapping of
conscientiously-used computer keys.
 
The welcome inertia of
remaining in bed long after a nap,
the loving words spoken to me,
that from anyone else would be cliché,

a feeling of coming home to
family after a weekend away,
their smiles from the couch
as they greet you warmly,
knowing that you were 
and are always wanted,
it is a fact that will remain.
 
The solitude offered
when I simply want to work 
while being alone
in the comfort of another’s company,

the powerful sensation of
breathing, absorbing, 
into my cold being,
the warmth of another’s close body,

a hand, a gentle stroke,
reminding me that my world is 
quietly amazing.
 
I appreciate the little things,
though they can be so often hard to see,
taken for granted,
I must force my eyes open,
willingly breathe these blessings in.
  
Sometimes we can be
distracted by things 
which overwhelm
and seem of more import,

but I shall share this with you,
appreciate your life, 
your blessings –
I know that I’ve been blinded temporarily,
but I now know and appreciate
what I have before me.
 
Because we must cherish and
treasure the little things,
they’re so easy to dismiss,
to sweep aside and
complain of petty things,
or focus on other areas of our lives.
 
Betroth yourself to the memories,
the circumstances,
the power of love,
of consideration,

and if you cannot,
perhaps something will appear,
reminding you of your blessings
with its intervention.
 
Perhaps you’ll feel alerted,
eyes wide open to that
which is before your very eyes,
and I wonder, I wonder to myself,
will we see or remain blind?  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

Return to All Posts

YouTube Poem videos: Lauren M. Hancock Poetry

Soundcloud Poem Readings

Poem: Depression, A Realisation – Spoken Word and Text – 01/07/20

Poem: Depression, A Realisation – Spoken Word and Text – 01/07/20

I’ll admit it.
Depression must be settling in.
The sadness has quietly 
crept into my clothing and then into my bones,
until I’ve become used to his company.
 
I snipe at little things,
take offense, 
wallow with despair,
I want to reject this feeling,
but I am too languid,
I need some form of interjection.
 
But my mouth, my tongue seems far too fat
and lazy
to conjure itself into the words,
Leave me alone;
I don’t want your company,
because his is the only partnership I can envisage
that’s making me feel so utterly lonely
even when surrounded by those who care for
and love me.
 
He’s like that tight, oppressive, unwelcome sweater
that you try on from years earlier,
to see whether the style still fits,
still suits you,
and you realise that his sizing is just not right for you.
 
And you can’t throw him off,
emotional you become,
engulfed in the face by years-old musty scent,
from the attic my depression now becomes,
he suffocates,
I panic,
I try to escape.
 
It seems too hard though,
to throw this sinister, insipid being off.  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by Ulrike Mai from Pixabay

https://soundcloud.com/user-894707136/depression-a-realisation-spoken-word-poetry-by-lauren-m-hancock

Return to All Posts

YouTube Poem videos: Lauren M. Hancock Poetry

Soundcloud Poem Readings