Posted in poetry

Public Melody


This room is so loud I can’t hear anything,

the voices blending into one sound,

a buzz that fills the air with silence.

I welcome the chaos,

the distraction of nonsense

that quiets my disquiet,

so I can sip on this glass of wine

and not think

about empty seats,

lost in noise.

–Leanne Rebecca

I shared one of my poems with my friend Gabby a couple days ago and was shocked to find out she had no idea that I write poetry. After 5 years of having this blog, I assumed everyone in my life was keenly aware of my writing. I share most of my posts on Facebook, which after hundreds of posts, has probably reached the level of annoying. Gabby asked me a little about my poetry, if I use it as a form of therapy or if I’m open to publish or share some of my more vulnerable posts with others, like the one I wrote about abuse last week. These questions seemed so easy to answer since poetry has become such a marker of my identity, but it made me realize how lucky I am to have found this outlet. Writing is indeed a release and a medium I use to work through tough shit. It’s helped me heal through life’s difficulties, like an abusive relationship, and I don’t know where I’d be without it. Many of my poems carry a solemn tone because of this, but I want you all to know that I am far from sad. Writing allows me to let go of whatever ails me, so that as soon as it’s on the page, I feel free. I’m working through something right now, and I haven’t fully written out its story, but in time, the words will come out and I’ll rise up again.


Poetry and music.

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