Posted in art, Music, poetry

This Heart that Beats

I wish I knew how to write myself a love letter, wish my arms could wrap around my heart, cradle the weight in my palms and breathe the electricity of the beat, feel the strum of my guitar beneath my fingers, let fly the fear held captive in unbroken tears, and trust that I am beautiful, write that I am beautiful that it doesn’t matter that he couldn’t see it and he couldn’t see it and he couldn’t see it.  I love that I don’t want to pretend that I don’t miss him, heart zipped up, mended as if it had never cracked. I’m mismatched, stitched by time, how some days it disappears and others feel like years, losing moments to old emotions, the fool caught in yesterday,  picking at old scabs.   I wish I could forgive the girl that fell. I want to tell her that I love her and that she should never regret the size of her own heart, her capacity to admire, her courage to feel, her strength to invite him to see her art, even if he couldn’t see it, and he couldn’t see it, and he couldn’t see it.  I want to write myself a love letter, sing my worth, guitar in hand and trust that I am beautiful.   —Leanne Rebecca

I ran out of time today to do everything that I wanted to do. I need to remember that it doesn’t make me a failure, but that my life is full.

Tonight I’m listening to acoustic Sleeping with Sirens and Grizfolk. I want to lose myself in the lyrics like I did yesterday at Warped Tour, closing my eyes and feeling the music of each band, letting it grab hold of my soul and claim a part of me, even for just a second.

I discovered a band called Onward Etc. If there’s one thing you’ll take away from this blog post, it’s to listen to them and find your own poem in their lyrics.

Good night loves.

–Leanne Rebecca

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Posted in love, poetry, writing

To Take the Chance

To Take the Chance

I’ve loved and been broken, dated again and been disappointed, and started the process all over again. Putting your heart on the line is exasperating, terrifying, and exciting and sometimes we feed off that exhilaration and put ourselves out there and other times we can think of nothing worse than going on a date. I wish I could say that taking the chance on love is always worth it. I’ve had several experiences where the heartache outweighed the benefit of telling someone that you like them. I just hold on to the hope that one of these days I’ll find that person that is as stoked to take the chance on me as I am for them. In the meantime, I write.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Storm

Storm  I remember the fear I used to feel when the sky would turn green, huddling under a blanket as hail rained, my parents watching the local news as nighttime ravaged the afternoon sun.  It’s the same fear I feel now, exposed to a vastness outside my window, that even though my parents love me, the Midwestern storm still has the upper hand.   I concede vulnerability to the elements— the ferocity of darkness, the wind raping my cheeks, eyes spilling gallons of anxiety, waking in ruble with splinters in my feet, crippled in unending fear.   I’m not hiding under a blanket anymore. I’m standing in the rain accepting the challenge, knowing the torrent will pass, and the sky will illuminate again tomorrow. I am still afraid, but I face east with alacrity.

I’m often asked where I find my inspiration. Most of the time it’s random, like the color of my hot tea or hearing a song playing at the grocery store, but sometimes I seek out inspiration too. On Thursday I asked a handful of my friends what their favorite word was that day. I didn’t explain why I was asking, which netted me some pretty interesting responses, like burrito or sandwich. One of my friends even made up a word.

There were a few answers however that stuck out: storm, alacrity, and illuminate. The strength behind these words is consuming and even more intriguing are the reasons that my friends chose these. I initially intended to write a separate poem for each word, but then I realized how interconnected they could be, which again, is a pretty powerful discovery.

This poem is dedicated to my friends Kelsey, Charlie, and Cameron.

What is your favorite word today?

–Leanne Rebecca

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

Forest

Forest

Hello! I realize it’s been a few more days than normal since my last poem. I admit I’ve been feeling a little out of sorts when it comes to writing–not writer’s block necessarily, but more of a needed break to simply breathe. I also realize that as such I skipped yet another Twenty One Pilots inspired piece for my Saturday series. Ooops. To make up for it I’m posting it today. I think this poem is a little more like the stuff I wrote in the early days of She’s in Prison and less like the ones as of late. Regardless, thank you for stopping by for a little verse on this lovely day.

Check out Twenty One Pilots’ version of “Forest” too if you have a second. I’m feeling particularly stoked about TOP at the moment because I just purchased tickets (literally 5 minutes ago) to an upcoming show this summer. WOOHOOOOO!

Happy Easter. Happy Sunday. Happy Passover. Happy day.