Category: poem

Posted in art, poem, writing

Always My Favorite Jeans

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Always My Favorite Jeans I tucked your heart into my pocket for hushed safe keeping, to carry with me every time I wear these jeans. And when the day comes that these jeans are folded in a drawer, when I’m ready to brave the day with a different look, collecting the beats of someone else's heart in the back pocket of new jeans, I promise I’ll still carry you with me. Maybe not in my pocket, so accessible. But in the nostalgia of all the times I danced in those jeans, in all the rips and stains of forever love.

Sometimes I write sappy poems. This is one of them. I loved every single second of milking every line for all the cheese I could muster. I wish you all the merriest of Monday nights.

Sleep well, my friends.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poem, poetry, writing

Hide and Go Seek

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Hide and Go Seek I found her at the bottom of a glass of wine, the second glass actually. She giggled as she unfurled, throwing her hair back like a wet dog shaking out its coat, a declaration of space, blithe dominance with selfish intention, anything for her own comfort. I thought I’d lost her, collapsed under a desiccated heart, trapped in the rubble of self-doubt, forever hiding in the aftermath of tragic non-love stories. I counted to 100, then 1000, opened my eyes and found her right in front of me, stretching in my beverage, peeking out and smirking, the coyness of flirtation, a dare to grab her hand and hold on for the night.

We made it past hump day. Smile 🙂

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in poem, poetry, writing

Jawbreaker

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Jawbreaker I caught my mistakes in my throat, choked on the acidity of sour reality staining my tongue. My lips tinged purple as if I’d eaten a grape Popsicle the blue of not breathing, suffocating as time and energy blocked my airway as if a Jawbreaker had lodged there and I couldn’t cough it up. My neck cramped and I waited for the sugar to dissolve, the lump to melt as I tasted all the flavors of my choices. I swallow now with freedom as intoxicating as spring air, but the scar’s still there, a scratch caught in my throat, the mistakes etched in the memory of my breath.

I sat here in front of my computer for a solid ten minutes, staring at the screen, trying to think of something to write here. Maybe it’s more profound that I couldn’t think of a single thing.

Have a splendid Wednesday!

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, creative writing, poem, poetry, writing

Steeped Too Long

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Steeped Too Long I let him bathe in my brain until his tea leaves turned bitter, an after taste like ash wrinkling my face into a raisin. The boy that had infused my blood with caffeine, awakening desire in flavors erected through heat now revolted my palate, a reversal of obsession ended in one final sip. I don’t want this anymore.

Have a great weekend, friends. Listen to your hearts and when all else fails, write about it.

–Leanne Rebecca