Posted in art, Music, poetry

This Heart that Beats

I wish I knew how to write myself a love letter, wish my arms could wrap around my heart, cradle the weight in my palms and breathe the electricity of the beat, feel the strum of my guitar beneath my fingers, let fly the fear held captive in unbroken tears, and trust that I am beautiful, write that I am beautiful that it doesn’t matter that he couldn’t see it and he couldn’t see it and he couldn’t see it.  I love that I don’t want to pretend that I don’t miss him, heart zipped up, mended as if it had never cracked. I’m mismatched, stitched by time, how some days it disappears and others feel like years, losing moments to old emotions, the fool caught in yesterday,  picking at old scabs.   I wish I could forgive the girl that fell. I want to tell her that I love her and that she should never regret the size of her own heart, her capacity to admire, her courage to feel, her strength to invite him to see her art, even if he couldn’t see it, and he couldn’t see it, and he couldn’t see it.  I want to write myself a love letter, sing my worth, guitar in hand and trust that I am beautiful.   —Leanne Rebecca

I ran out of time today to do everything that I wanted to do. I need to remember that it doesn’t make me a failure, but that my life is full.

Tonight I’m listening to acoustic Sleeping with Sirens and Grizfolk. I want to lose myself in the lyrics like I did yesterday at Warped Tour, closing my eyes and feeling the music of each band, letting it grab hold of my soul and claim a part of me, even for just a second.

I discovered a band called Onward Etc. If there’s one thing you’ll take away from this blog post, it’s to listen to them and find your own poem in their lyrics.

Good night loves.

–Leanne Rebecca

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Poetry and music.

15 thoughts on “This Heart that Beats

  1. Thank you for the like. This is a very beautiful piece. I mean that from the heart. I know the line all too well…
    “She couldn’t see it and she couldn’t see it.”
    Quite honestly that poem struck a chord quite too close for comfort for the moment but alas still real and beautiful. Thank you.

    Please if you may read the first portion of Mask and the finale I write tomorrow. Just hate to think of the story being viewed unfinished. So many illustrations I could draw as to why it would be bothersome. At least to me.

  2. This is truly beautiful; I love “never regret the size of her own heart”. I think some people will not understand the depth that you feel; I’m trying to learn that is OK as well.

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