September 2020 – Page 4 – Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Poem: Languishing – 02/09/20

I tell myself
that everything will be okay,
but I languish in bed for hours.
I lie here, my consciousness aching away,
my stomach anxious as I wonder
not what the distant future will bring,
but the next minute, next seconds, next hours.

I do not know how to deal with this despair,
I practiced positivity these last days without a care,
but what’s settling in is this irrevocable gloom,
of unknowing, what will come,
or whether things will change at all soon.

It’s like looking up the steepest hill,
some would think, “Keep going” and keep aiming for the summit,
but I, I am exhausted,
and I’ve barely performed any exertion,
but mentally,
inside, it’s a circus.

These times are trying for many,
and I know this,
I’m not selfish for how I’m feeling,
and I understand that others are suffering,
perhaps I could reach out a hand,
then I remember we’re discouraged from this,
I must keep my distance,
but wait,
I’m already doing this.

These four walls which once seemed like luxury,
a newly-developed introvert’s home
are caving in on me,
I want to disappear,
but then it seems from the outside world
I’ve already achieved this.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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Poem: Stutter – 02/09/20

I stutter out what I want from you,
my anger causes me to shake,
I’ve never been this rowdy before,
my confidence piques -
before I know it, I’ll inadvertently break.
 
What is it about you
and this situation that causes me to uncontrollably squirm?
I can only tell you partial truths of the circumstance,
I cannot allow you to wholly learn.
 
For the truth is more than simplicity,
more than duplicity,
more than duality,
more than contextualisation.
 
To put it simply, I must breathe out
every single speckle of you
because I cannot have the world learn
that you’ve taken over me,
truth be told,
no more,
never,
not again,
the chance of this happening again?
None.
 
The sound of a lonesome wren.  

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Mike Marrah on Unsplash

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Poem: Starry Eyed – 01/09/20

They couldn’t help it,
they had stars in their eyes.
Bright burst of fireworks encapsulated in their sights,
little pin drops of explosions,
one by one they shine and shone,
filling their beings with life and fire,
delighting themselves,
fear, they had none.
 
What is it about confidence that oozes delectability?
And what is it about inner strength that speaks to not only them,
but me?
Because, I, as narrator of this tale,
I am also here to be affected,
lights and sounds within my view and ears,
can I share this, can I tell?
 
I am not the only one with stars in my eyes,
when I look at the those before me,
those who succeeded in their own style,
and the others who admire,
who view this situation for what it is,
entirely pleased be they,
it is involuntary.
 
Stars in our eyes,
this I’ll admit,
when I’m looking at us,
looking at it,
success is not an option,
success is the only way,
the ironic moment comes when I realise
I’ve been staring in the mirror with the others,
together,
the whole time, always.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Daniel Lincoln on Unsplash

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