Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
Where I can feel at home…
What we are and we feel are two different concepts, notions I need to feel, I watch from within as thoughts build and layers harden then peel like ancient flakes of house paint decorating that life we accepted and treasured within, I know through deep understanding that each flake tells a story, it’s witnessed so much of life to be felt, heard, and seen. [...]
As I rest upon the couch, I close my eyes and strangely experience this golden sensation of euphoria. It is like white lace woven with golden glistening lace, and around my forehead I feel this certain aura. It’s odd, this sensation, it is one like a state of bliss, it is encompassing my upper face now and throbbing almost from within. Suddenly, something mischievous and perhaps malicious passes through me and then am wearing this slightly deranged grin upon my face. It’s as though a spirit has overtaken me for the moment [...]
Not right, not right, not right. Matchmaking is more than a plight, I shall denounce the insolence with a single breath into the dead of night. Who minds that only I am the one who breathes, flames flicker by my outstretched hands, extended sleeves, I shall not learn what it means to flee. [...]
And the proof is in the vision, the truth is in the See, the horizon is there to be admired, by us, by you, by me. We have triumphed over that which causes us pain, let us relish the moments, the announcements, one and many the same. I think to myself often, what has become of them, [...]
The butterfly, with her wings so wide, carries no weight of the world upon her mind. She is here for but the blink of a moment, her beauty is there, she shows it, and within our hearts, we observe her growing love for her wandering times. She does not know the shortness of her lifespan, maybe she does and does not show it to us, [...]
My land of In-Between is glorious, that space which cannot be defined, can’t be plotted, accurately located, yet it houses my wealth of memories, my heartfelt song, prose, poetry, the magic of my inner layers which are only conducive to goodness, kindness, and moral wealth. Imagine a cloud-speckled sky, with Sun gently winking, mischievousness in her eyes, [...]
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