Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
Where I can feel at home…
Speaking my truths, remaining adamant, but no longer nail and tooth, calm and personable, gone are those moods, deplorable, able to deal with behaviours that are not necessarily toward, becoming more knowing each moment, calamities? No more, no more. [...]
Deliver me from the evils that await at the hands of certain beings, an understanding that what they project in life is the pain they’ve already been suffering, or a notion that the signs they exhibit are the nastiness wrought within their souls, perhaps they’ve been hurt already, perhaps they just have a cruel heart, perhaps we won’t know at all. [...]
I look to the sky with haste, why has thou forsaken me, in my time of need? Every inch of me screams to be heard, every centimetre to be held close. The raw aching state of my soft flesh cuts into my plans, wreaking havoc on a once-perfectly addled mind, states of being which soared with creativity, more and more, until even I couldn’t believe what avant-garde moments were coming from me. [...]
reduction of meds equals reduction of stability you’re questioned whether what you’re doing is right for you but I know it’s important to get this poison out of my system to slowly cleanse myself of it it’s been soaking my mind tainting my equilibrium. it can’t be healthy to be on high doses for years and years – when you are struggling the most, perhaps it’s important to have these as bandages to cotton wool my mind with white fluffy woollen balls but I need the reality of living without so much chemical restraint I’m just taking matters into my own hands it’s only weeks that I am not going to wait. the edginess in reduction is the worst part the raw red feeling of being scraped against a venomous spiked ceiling being dragged upside down feeling discomfort, exhaustion to the highest degree this dose has been with me for years I’m getting rid of it perhaps a little too fast, deplete it from me, just damned well leave my system, let me breathe. Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
I feel the river of consciousness flowing, the flow of ethereal joy growing, and the prism of light shine and increase within me, a quiet sense of knowing. Knowledge that life will continue to improve, it is with focus and intent that I’m aware I’ll keep this view, with positivity, an ample amount, enough to dampen any sense of fear or doubt, in myself I have trust and the knowledge that to myself and close others, I will be able to remain devout. There can be occasions when I wonder, have I strayed from the righteous path, was there something awry I performed, or have I mistrusted, an inability to inadequately and naively discern, when really I should have upped and away without a goodbye, from past experiences, perhaps still never having learnt. [...]
The colour of his soul is sky-blue, visceral, with tinges of mottled red. I view him from an angle of security, I know more of him than others have dared to have said or can see. For there is more beneath the surface of his scruffy-haired expressions, gentle whimsical looks, I know more of him than many could ever ascertain, I know so much more, of truth’s revelation I feel I have to refrain, to not heed nor allow another intrinsic, curious look. [...]
Open arms found in this wide world of mine, delicately and excitedly they’ve welcomed me in. I’m thankful for the support, friendship, and more, each morning or evening, my comrades' words I can explore. Their thoughts, laid upon the screen, bright, blinking, I take them in, ascertaining deeper meaning, truth-seeking, prisms of depth and reasoning, wondrous intentions blossoming. [...]
Awakening thy inner truths, beauty present, spiritual proof, the internal reservoirs of light, make infinite truth anything but a plight. Causes within and visions yours, counteract the substance of irrelevant facts, cast forth through the shrouded clouds, airy mysteries, intelligence, wonder, determining that which we seek. [...]
The garden’s greenery embraces me, wonder seen, euphoria breathed, chest heaving, visions to believe in, bountiful Earth entities, flickering leaves, reaching twigs, encroaching branches, to my life, they have been given. [...]
I pray for our future, I pray for the rain, the scent upon our once-dry shoulders smouldering us, yet from angry cloud formations we edge away in vain, but because we are prone, prone to the stares of youth, we smile, and we grin to ourselves for we know the whole truth. [...]
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