Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: addiction

  • Poem: Addiction – 08/07/20

    Poem: Addiction – 08/07/20

    Addiction,
it can reveal itself in 
many insidious forms:

drugs,
alcohol,
food,
another person,
even yourself.
 
It starts off small,
nothing sinister,
just a drag here, a sip there,
a few excited texts in a row,
or the journal in which
you scrawl 
endless thoughts of your own.
 
Addiction,
it’s potent,
perhaps you’ll succumb to it,
grasping blindly,
fingernails dragging,
internally snarling,
give me him/it/that/treat
need it want it
can’t be without it
 
The pen scrawls as though
it’s a mind of its own,
detailing your lover
or your self-obsession,
your catharsis,

you’re stuck, stuck, stuck,
on sharing -
won’t someone help 
break this cycle?
 
Addiction, it’s engulfed me
it’s taken o’er,
I am wallowing,

and now
and now
and now
I cannot stop
I won’t,
because I do not know how.

My addiction, all former 
afflictions cast aside, 
this was the one left to
to quietly fester and grow.

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

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  • Poem: ‘Coffee-less’ – 04/07/20

    Poem: ‘Coffee-less’ – 04/07/20

    Have you ever been so crabby because
you’ve been without your coffee?
Don’t deny it,
I know you know what I’m talking about.
 
Nothing will do as a substitute,
the black tea,
holistic herbal concoctions,
coffee, coffee,
the strong caffeine hit,
 
it’s what I am needing,
it’s what my soul hounds for, 
this substance I am seeking,
desperately begging for.
 
Don’t tell me that I’m petty,
that I’m a pseudo-addict,
I need this to function properly,
can’t you hear my futile cries,
cannot you view my need?
 
I know there are others just like me,
put your hands up,
express your empathy,
 
let us join together
and perhaps you can
provide me a large pot
of steaming liquid so dark.
 
I’ll mix in creamer and sugar
with such flamboyance,
my heart full of splendour,
the first sip is what I’ve been dreaming of,
that which my heart has been
aching to be delivered.
 
And this sip finally rolls onto my tongue,
scalding my taste buds,
running down my throat,
such a welcome sensation:
I love coffee the most.
 
I survive on it,
I thrive off it,
it doesn’t wire me anymore,
it’s pure functionality,
I need it to be,
please allow me to push aside
your humble cup of tea.
 
And now my kitchen is stocked up,
beans, grind and instant, 
whichever mood I’ll be in,
and with wonder and amazement
I’ll take in this spectacular substance,
 
and survive all day long
with a smile across my dial,
I must drink and drink and drink,
to satisfy my high tolerance.

© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. 
Image by Myriam Zilles from Pixabay

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  • Poem: Withdrawal – 17/06/20

    Poem: Withdrawal – 17/06/20

    Withdrawal,
withdrawal,
from these precious sticks
of doom,
 
the blatant causes
of various cancers,
and other deadly conditions
they deliver.
 
With their absence,
I feel the drag,
their lacking of
spiking chemicals,
their irrevocable power,
 
there’s still poison in
my bloodstream,
will it be strong enough
to patch the physical yearnings?

Will grinding teeth,
picked fingernails
be viable distractions for me?
 
The burning inhalation,
the absorption,
quick brain chemical memory,
stimulation,
 
I feed off the desire,
cessation was such a challenge, you see,
 
having fallen from the path,
diverged from it,
a temporary misstep or lethal
stomp away for good?

We'll see.
 
A tentative toe upon the righteous
path of health,
clean scent,
unstained fingernails,

perhaps the danger of cancer,
I have danced around again,
perchance will I succeed at
finally being rid of them?   

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

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  • Poem: Stay a While – 28/12/19

    Poem: Stay a While – 28/12/19

    N.B. This post may be triggering for some people. Please consider if you may be prone to being negatively affected by reading this post. 

 Stay a while, they said to him, 
 consume, consume, 
 of us, 
 take your fill.
  
 There is nothing in life  
 we cannot fix,
 blindly drink, 
 devour, ingest,
 take us in,
 we are your fuel. 
  
 Then,
 Stay a while, 
 They say to him, 
 as he sways from side to side,
 excessiveness his served meal, 
  
 Stay, my friend, stay, 
 an echoing voice calls,  
 the past dragging him behind 
 to a voice he once knew well. 
  
 Stay, my darling, please,
 her voice begs of him, 
 as he foams at the mouth, 
 his eyes rolling terrifyingly,
  
 Go if you must, 
 his mother’s saddened voice is faint, 
 barely a whisper, 
 as she strokes his hair,
 wipes away the slick sweat.
 
 In a moment she knows he is lost. 
  
 Teach them to stay, 
 that life is worth living! 
 she announces to the 
 assembled crowd 
 at the gathering where 
 awareness is raised
 for her son and the psychology of 
 many lost and living others.
  
 They need to stay,
 she beseeches, 
 they need to know we want and need them to remain,
 love will teach them,
 that they need to stay a whole while longer.
  
 © 2019 Lauren M. Hancock 
also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.

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