Skip to content
  • About
  • Josh Dun Poetry Corner
  • Featured
    • Heart Week
    • Twenty One Pilots Titled Poetry
    • Epic Poem

She's in Prison

Poetry by Leanne Rebecca Ortbals

Tag: effort

Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

About This I Am Right

Posted on January 27, 2015January 27, 2015 by SHE'S IN PRISON

About This I am Right  I knead my thumb into my palm, pausing at each callus,  the evidence of effort, the roughness of imperfections, of making a fool of myself in trying.   My hands aren’t soft, they bleed in the cold air, they sting against my tears, they tire, they fail and the holding on hurts more.   My hands aren’t soft,  and the calluses scrape, but if you let me let go, I promise you’re making a mistake. Of this I am right.

There are some poems that hurt to write. I read through them and exhale. This one hurt, but I remember they’re just words and I’m stronger than their verse.

–Leanne Rebecca

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Email
  • Pinterest
  • Print
  • More
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
Posted in art, poetry, writing

Are You Ready?

Posted on June 18, 2014June 21, 2014 by SHE'S IN PRISON

Are You Ready?  She asked the question  in the earnestness of choice, offering me an out despite the unspoken plea traced  in the words hiding behind the weight of decision, my decision to box up my heart --my needs, my fears, my selfishness— and store it on a shelf, collecting dust and waiting.   She explained: you can’t expect anything back, must act without being asked, that’s what it takes, effort,  your effort.  I nodded, a yes flying from my lips  in auto response like an out-of-office email, true and direct, but impersonal, shallow.   She glared into my irises like a lie detector assessing genuine intention. But she didn’t say anything. Did she not see the waver in my thought which screamed in every blink  breaking our locked eye contact? She didn’t say anything, reiterating her faith in me, her compassion to see beyond my flaws, the reason why my mother is the most selfless person I know.      I reach down my throat  and pluck out my feelings. This isn’t about me, I think, but if there’s one reward to this choice it’s becoming more like my mother, my selfish caveat tainting her altruistic purity.

This one’s a bit different. But I wouldn’t be a poet if I didn’t play, right? Thanks for stopping by and as always, have a happy Wednesday!

–Leanne Rebecca

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Facebook
  • Email
  • Pinterest
  • Print
  • More
  • Tumblr
  • LinkedIn
  • Reddit
  • Pocket

Like this:

Like Loading...
To Put Yourself Out There

To Put Yourself Out There

Image• Posted on June 14, 2013 by SHE'S IN PRISON

More on She’s in Prison

  • About
  • Featured
    • Epic Poem
    • Heart Week
    • Twenty One Pilots Titled Poetry
  • Josh Dun Poetry Corner

Recent Posts

  • The Other
  • We Can Be Good
  • Don’t Drown
  • Choices
  • It Wasn’t Nothing
  • At Night
  • Ghosted
  • Public Melody
  • Unforgettable
  • Silent Tears

Follow me on Twitter

My Tweets
My Tweets
Blog at WordPress.com.
Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • She's in Prison
    • Join 2,347 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • She's in Prison
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

    loading Cancel
    Post was not sent - check your email addresses!
    Email check failed, please try again
    Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.
    %d bloggers like this: