Tag: broken heart

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Tiny Brains

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Tiny Brains It was a Sunday night, the day before Labor Day. We laid on the ground outside of the bowling alley. She sat on the curb first. I mimicked her artistry, knees crumpling, muscles oozing like jelly, slinking to the ground in a glob until I’d surpassed sitting and settled on horizontal stargazing. We played out the therapy session, a cement couch counting the justifications— why I texted him, why she felt betrayed— we vomited honesty, beer-numbed confessions of hearts the size of our confusion, the hearts that led us to fall on our backs in a parking lot and brains too small to sit on a bench.

Katie, this one’s for you.

I’ve gathered from my Facebook newsfeed that Monday was rough. Too many hearts and brains are fighting. Thank God it’s Tuesday, folks. Call a truce, and then celebrate with pancakes.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

The Saga of a Heart

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The Saga of a Heart

This was one of those poems that poured out without intention or thought. 20 seconds of real life. 

–Leanne Rebecca

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Something Else

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Something Else The cheese in my guacamole. The distraction of a fragment, if only for a second, a moment of heaven— a Something Else. I covet that nonsensical anything else that washes the brain, that gifts reprieve from thinking about you. I didn’t want cheese in my guacamole. They should have indicated it on the menu.

It’s the little things.

Posted in art, poetry, writing

That Thing Called Trust

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

That Thing Called Trust I opened my heart to it, relinquishing power into your volition, touching my palm to yours and memorizing the comfort of unrestrained connection, allowing the circle around my fear to bend for you. I liked the way it felt, to grant you access to my sealed chest, leaving the door a little ajar, the nightlight always shining just in case you wanted to come in, even in the dark hours, in my dreams, the recesses of my head. I found faith there, faith that I was safe, that as long as I trusted without doubt this taken chance couldn’t hurt. I never expected you’d force me to flicker the light, that you’d be the one to swallow my love like whiskey, with a wince.

It’s a new week and I’m pumped to be back. I’m ready to write and so blessed to have you all here to listen. Thank you for standing by my side on this poetic journey.

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Protect the Heart

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Protect the Heart The natural cage makes sense, a rigid encasing to guard the soft tissue underneath— supposed to ward off destruction, to support the breathing underneath so we can stand tall, heeding the strength of construction— our innate barrier of warning— be wary of the heart’s fragility I count the ribs beneath my T-shirt. 12 pairs, still there. So why then does my chest ache late at night?

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Breaking

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Breaking

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Flushed

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Flushed

How’s everyone doing? Sometimes it’s odd to think that I’m sharing poem after poem with all of you beautiful people without really knowing you. The truth is, I want to know who you are and how your day is going. I want to know what brought you here and what you’re thinking about this Friday in early May. I want to meet you, to get coffee with you, and steal inspiration from your stories. Life’s better when we take the time to acknowledge one another. This is me acknowledging you, whether you’ve visited She’s in Prison before or whether this is your first time. Please don’t be afraid to say hello! I’m on Twitter too if that’s more your style!

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Stop Sign

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Stop Sign

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Moving On

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Moving On

Posted in poetry, writing

Pure Love

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Pure Love

Day 4 of Heart Week is celebrating my mom, who buries her pain every day as the founding president of the Children’s Heart Foundation Missouri Chapter. Even though she went through the tragedy of losing her daughter, she found the strength and willpower to not only keep living but to give unconditionally to those around her. My family is walking this Sunday in the St. Louis Congenital Heart Walk not only in remembrance of my sister who died from a CHD, but in support of my mother, the most selfless person I know. Join us in honoring all those born with CHDs and their families by finding a walk in your area and/or donating to CHD research.

Go HERE for more information.

Posted in poetry, writing

Legacy

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Legacy

Today is day 2 of Heart Week on She’s in Prison in celebration and remembrance of all those born with congenital heart defects. On August 25th, I am walking in the St. Louis Congenital Heart Walk in memory of my sister and in support of friends, with the hopes of raising awareness and funds for CHD research. Join me by donating and/or finding a walk in your city!

Go HERE for more information.