Posted in art, poetry, writing

Under the Radar

Under the Radar  I felt the warning signs welling up like the early symptoms of a head cold— easily ignored. I swallowed the thoughts with each sip of vodka soda which dwindled as the toasts wrapped. To the Bride and Groom.  They cut the cake and had a dance and everyone smiled and some cried as I kept quiet, afraid to speak and erupt with cynicism on this happy occasion, finding respite in the bathroom stall until sickness poured from my eyes, my sickness—my eternal loneliness soiling  the love infested air of a wedding celebration. I ducked outside so no one would see the despair blur my eyeliner like a watercolor painting.  I watched the guests raise glasses through the window, kicking off their shoes, shamelessly indulging in the contagion of glee, the pairs of them, hand in hand with their own brides and grooms of yesterdays and tomorrows while I wept in the darkness of a night’s sky.  They hadn’t seen me leave, who would? I wasn’t tied to that innate buddy system of plus ones, relegated unintentionally invisible,  forgotten amidst kisses and slow dances, biding my time until the glowing couple  skipped into their getaway car and I shuffled back to mine, tired. Thanks for sticking with me. Life’s a journey and sometimes it gets busy, which is why I feel utterly lucky to have this magical thing called writing that lets me dance my way through it without rules. Have a fantastic Monday!

–Leanne Rebecca


Posted in art, poetry, writing


SteamThis poem would not be possible without the patience of the entire Frida’s staff. They put up with me taking up a table for hours at a time and constantly refill my water despite the fact that I don’t order any additional food…So to them, I say a big THANK YOU for accepting me week after week.

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