I’ve too much time on my hands. For some, this would be paradise, but for me, it’s a continual, rising obsession of poetry and revisions filling my mind. I can spend hours and hours retouching a word, retouching another phrase, here and there, rephrasing this and rewording that, the stresses of syllables hold great power, I am aware. Too much time is dangerous, I work arduously and arduously even if my words may be ill received, I strive for perfection, the utmost that I can, though I need to recognise my work isn’t the centre of everything, it is not all-encompassing. But, for me, it’s a driving obsession, the need to write, correct, edit and rephrase, to ‘right the wrongs’, as they say, my words, they have too much time to be altered, at night, I lay stagnant yet wide awake. My phrases cannot sit and marinate in their juices of potent honesty, because, I won’t allow this: changes and niggling, internal suggestions are currently what compel me. So, what to do with this obsession? This drive for perfection, or as close to it? The need to present the best I can, that’s healthy, but this method I’m experiencing is causing an unpleasant reaction. I could close the computer down, walk away for days or hours, but I’m far too attached; I’m stuck, to write continually is my life now, it has become that part of me where upon the gap in my heart has been sewn. The stitching, the patching, of that broken, missing piece, is now where bushels of words and truth are overgrown, and my words, in your mind, I will speak – I’ll find it difficult if I were to ever let go. Too much time has its setbacks, I’ll shut my notebook, close the computer down, when will I learn to slow my mind down? When will I learn to leave my words alone?© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved. Image by nile from Pixabay
YouTube Poem videos: Lauren M. Hancock Poetry
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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