Sustaining the high energy of the beautiful vitality within thy soul, watch as it trickles through the gaps visible in the aura that surrounds you whole.
You are wonderful just the way you are, the courteous, gentle being who sings slightly off-key, it is permissible to be less than perfect, because this is what I have to say freely:
Imperfection is beauty, as a wise woman once had said, your perfection lies in the moments when your heart is beating – that’s always…
You easily keep promises to yourself, honouring what you call for, what you beg for with a smile, more, and more, and more…
The grimaces are gone, they are done for, done for, that’s what I have to say, and treasured is everything, partially, of what I know, expressions of true friendship, always.
It seems that specific people will always be there for me, it appears that they aren’t the ones who we expected them to be, but I treasure the new alliances made, I am safe to be safe, as are you.
It is safe for us to live in these bodies, it is acceptable and right to express ourselves, we should appreciate our splendid uniqueness, and when the flight of our souls occurs, we shall grasp our lives again whole.
A rambling here and there, a touch, a smile, humour is in the air, comfortability, company contained, thoughts shared, all aboard the rise and fall of the train.
I don’t feel awry, do you? They shake their head, they know not to speak their truths, for if it were known how nervous one felt, the pressures of the heart would have to be spoke, a heart would have to admit it melts, the tightening of a wanted noose, a newly looser belt.
Why on earth would the fissures let loose, steam gusting forth, and geysers pressurising the room,
words spoken, or hushed in the dark, addle the mind, or allow another to crawl away, escape, into their comfort zone, where are you — oh, hark? I think this takes the cake, I think it hits the mark, walk away, away, from the affray?
Take the sugar, exercise the sweetness, be brave, don’t knock objects aside accidentally, the clumsiness can leave a smudge that no one will want to save,
and celebrate the moments when time seems to have healed the brokenness inside of them, and eyes, and sight, certain glittering beauty will steal.
A name rolled off the tongue, started with a stammer, ended with an “A”, I was not upset, I would not be swayed, I was not irritated, I would not be saddened, I would not allow myself to feel hurt or even burdened or betrayed.
A slip of the tongue, shall we look this up? Perhaps a spiritual name, underlying of sorts.
And then we found it, beautiful description, suited to a T, was this the Universe’s way of highlighting its secret name for me?
As I read on, I smiled, it described me in ways that fit, although there was some advice I didn’t agree with, I wouldn’t allow my heart to dip –
I remember at a time wondering what or even if I had a soul name for me, or whether it was what I was named by my loved ones, Miss Lauren M, the assigned name for me.
Have I now discovered my spiritual name? Perhaps, perhaps I have not, but the process was lovely all the same, and I liked reading those kindly written words, and for the one who rolled off the name from his tongue, his real name is meant to remain, maybe the same is to be spoken for my chosen, given name.
Maybe there’s no need to search for something else when there’s no need to replace.
I darn the threadbare blanket, there are weaves showing to me, I’m not alarmed by its fragility, it’s actually perfect to see.
Because it signals much use, desirous times, this blanket speaks of laughter, friendship and truth, is loving deemed a crime?
This blanket’s been with me through a lot, covering, securing, protecting, I darn the holes away, renew it – it’s anew! with only little errors to view,
but are they really errors? This covering signals the bond between you and I, it links me to others too, with these friends there’s no need for goodbye.
The threadbare areas are reminiscent of our times where we lingered, conversed, and loved, the blanket itself is signalling the quality of my friendships with few and far in between, a small quantity of quality now, what is there left not to love?
I am no longer bereft by the smaller number, it’s not about quantity, it’s about cherishing who and what these friendships are,
the blanket caresses us, carries us under, I am grateful for them, and everything.
Violet and Lavender were the greatest of friends. They rarely fought, never had to make amends. Their hearts were in the right places, they assumed not in their lives now, they understood how to avoid moral corruption and rot, their positive moods would mutually grow and ascend. Their smiles were often worn with a glowing halo or crown which one could not usually see, but only when one focussed with great intensity. It was easy to understand these two just knew how be. They understood that the way to live life was with both vigour and kindness, always avoiding potential strife, associating themselves with kindness and niceness. They were lovely beings, these two shades, and they knew, they understood, that life was for living, and moments should be made, that Life was for positivity, for good. There was no extracting one another from a situation, because each wave they rode, they rose with a certain sense of mutual adoration and completion, their hearts had tales which would be eternally told.
One day, there came a time where everything seemed rather strained; Lavender and Violet were at their wit’s end, and this argument seems like it could not be saved. They did not know what to do, but they were chewing at the bit, wondering, What happened to our friendship? Is this it, is this it?
It all came about because Lavender could not handle because kept at arm’s length by Violet, whom was secretly carrying shades of green and red in her aura, without any yellow as a habit. Her glow was shining, but in a way that slightly perturbed; it reflected her inner state, and the ways in which showed what she currently desired and what she deserved. It was disappointing, really, and upsetting to Lavender, because she wanted Violet present, around for much longer, but it seemed she were pulling away, wanting her own space, it seems, and for that, this and that, she had to allow the tearing at the seams.
One cannot make someone stay, but they can leave without any form of rudeness or harshness, one can ensure they leave the slate clean, without emotionally leaving a desire for repair or dissolving of distress. And the factors within Lavender and Violet’s saddening tale, it that they’ll likely never meet again, and this is part of it all, and that’s the long and the short of it, such a difference from here and then.
Glowing in the dark, your pallour simply shines, you’re not sickness, you’re bright and mine.
The whiteness that doth paint thy reserved cheeks, highlighting flushed spots upon eager flesh which competes with the calmed presence within you, voices call for you to go, to go, but you know better, you know best, the truth.
You won’t leave me, no matter how much the world calls and calls for you to depart, you are devoted, purposefully stuck, in the land of Inbetween, your eyes and heart are thus awestruck.
I didn’t aim to drag you aside from your path, the strength to do so required Herculean, but here we are, myself overjoyed and anew, and you distracted, wondering how this situation became true.
In a way, we both gained, yourself, a heart-song to warble, to unwrap, to borrow, performed in time, and myself, a loyal comrade who shall accompany anywhere with an eager smile.
Wafting aromas of pastries from windowsills of homely cottages, welcoming me, engulfing me, overwhelming my mind and tummy.
Sweetened moments flit back into my mind, the shared moments with family and friends as we baked and sung together, to music, joyfully along, side by side, these times were ours to experience, and now for me to wistfully recall.
Those moments, those friendships, sadly fallen by the wayside, but I will remember the sweetness of our smiles, of our accumulative pairs of brightened eyes, because before things went pear-shaped, they were apple-shaped, in pairs and trios were we, nothing to be taken away from, no pains, only happiness to be seen.
And at the end of the night, when baking was complete and it was time to sample the delights, we would delve joyfully into the creations, no fear of weight or sugar content, no, no, of these we had no awareness or fright, we’d indulge until we were full to the brim, and still we wished we had more to fill ourselves with.
There’s no need to rant and rave, to set fire to the stage, the show’s come knocking it’s time to perform, ill feelings really should be tamed.
There’s misinterpretation in the scenes, misunderstandings, certain explanations seemingly misheard or unseen, and the power in the moments is not the spat venom nor poison, but the future mellowing, the quiet contemplation.
Will I ever reach that path where I am not in a situation of needs, in a situation where things feel incorrect, perhaps time apart is due, it’s calling, I feel.
I thought it was possible, to not completely sever ties, to retain a friendship but it seems the truth is not this, I surmise.
So, fly on high I will, let the sinking in my stomach be perpetuated nil, I will rise above the argumentative moments, we will clear the stage of such scenes,
perhaps, maybe, there won’t be much left to view, it may have been all just a breathy dream, let the angst dissipate from the theatre still, allow the audience to softly clear the room.
Should I take into account the other side, the viewpoint of another whom I cannot wholly share their tides?
The rolling waves they experience are tender to see, to feel, but I cannot allow myself to be affected overnight, into the early morning, disrupted sleep still.
Their thoughts are on my mind, subconsciously, as I try to rest, to prepare myself for sleep,
and I simply want to diminish the thoughts overriding me, I need to be rid of them temporarily.
I cannot change this, I cannot provide, I’ve made a decision, and though it hurts, it’s the wise kind,
I now need to work on myself, grow, to progress through life, onward, forward, and make a small success of myself, or at least something to be proud of in due time.
Could we do this together, side by side, arm in arm, friendship without divide?
We are forging ahead, we are carving individual paths, allow us to see that there’s no unwanted decimation nor aftermath.
There shouldn’t be collateral damage, only repairing, thatching, filling those gaps, because both can come out of something like this stronger, and I’d love to believe this as fact.
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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