Posted in poetry

Overload

She told him the truth to stop the conversations in her head, expelling the catalyst before it sparked and exploded, leaving bits of brain stuck to her bedroom wall.   She coughed into her hand, choking up the seed that had implanted in her grace, violating her sophistication like a hijacker, a virus.   He accepted the gift, the honesty wrapped up in a ticking package, listening with the guise of patience, imperceptibly backpedaling away to dispose of the bomb dropped in his lap.   Their eyes locked, both pulsating with intensity, sapphires reflecting the depth of the burden she’d bestowed on his conscience, truths too intense for his heart to bear, her fight, not his.   She recognized his reticence, reaching her hand back out as though comforting a child, a gentle expression of assurance. She thought for a second he wouldn’t let her take it back.

Have you ever had someone tell you a secret you wish you didn’t have to carry? When it comes to my friends, I would rather they unload their heaviest burdens on me and let me support them rather than have them hold those secrets alone. On the flip side though, that often means I’m very honest with opening up about my struggles and I wonder if sometimes I share too much. I never want to be a burden.

I’m of the mindset that we should always support those that we care about, no matter what. The best of friends should never give up on one another, no matter how heavy our honesty weighs. I encourage you to tell your friends you love them and make sure they truly know it, not because you told them, but because you were there to carry them on your shoulders when they couldn’t walk.

–Leanne Rebecca

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Posted in art, creative writing, poetry, writing

The Last Word

 

The last Word  A poem can be a line, she said.  I couldn’t leave it without justifying, barking thoughts after the fact, a defense mechanism, an expression of my own apprehension to accept simplicity.  I worry what they all think, what he thinks, fear manifested in ramblings that say nothing.  A poem can be a line.

I’m having an out of body experience at the moment, looking at the last week of my life from across a room. I see it and I think I feel it, but I can’t quite believe it’s mine. 

Celebrate luck with wine, good food, and many many hugs. 

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Solid

SolidThis poem is a blend of old and new, the emotions of past and the verses of now amalgamating into a piece that allows me to reflect and forces me to reinvent the meaning behind the message. In other words, I edited it. As always, thank you for taking a few moments out of your day to stop by She’s in Prison. Don’t be shy; say a quick hello below or shoot me a tweet!

Posted in art, Music, poetry, twenty one pilots, writing

Car Radio

Car RadioTonight’s poem is titled after the Twenty One Pilots song “Car Radio,” as part of my normal Saturday Series–poetry inspired by the titles of all TOP tracks (check out the ARCHIVES HERE). I don’t often speak to the meaning of my verse, but tonight I will admit that I wrote this one exactly 2 minutes ago under the influence of raw emotion. This one’s a true story and an utterly honest depiction of my drive home from work today.

As always, check out the Twenty One Pilots version of “Car Radio” below!