Posted in heart, poetry

As Emo as the Moon

As Emo as the Moon  I thought I’d write about the moon, relate the spectrum of stasis to its phases, as anorexic as its crescent thaw, unhinged in the glow of its full peak.  I thought I’d write about him, the waiting game of lust’s impatience, aging though his silent draw, intoxicated in obsession’s keep.   But as I sing the moon’s luminosity, its brilliance heating in a fever’s stage, I rethink love’s blind fall, and reclaim this heart, this shadowed heap.   The moon will rise tomorrow night and I will scale the expanse of darkened sky, my shoes untied from desire’s draw, free, swept through stars by poetry.   —Leanne Rebecca

Today someone said to me that the light in my eyes has returned. It struck me (in a good way) to hear that. I know the moment that it came back. It was the moment I decided to stop dating.

For three years I’ve bounced from date to date from guy to guy, crashing and burning over and over and over again, convinced in the end that I was incapable of sustaining a romantic relationship, that I was somehow less than, unworthy. The more I dated the more I lost myself.

About a month ago I called it quits, not from exasperation, but from a deep desire to explore my own heart, discover what I love and feed my passions with as much attention as they deserve. For the first time in three years all the pressure is gone and I’m rediscovering the girl I once was, a girl unafraid to sing her spirit, that dances in the car like no one is watching.

I never thought I’d say that the best decision I ever made for myself was to stop dating, after all, we all want to find true love and everyone says the only way to find it is to put yourself out there. But if there’s one lesson I can take away from this last month of soul searching it’s that there’s no hurry.

Take care of yourselves my loves!

–Leanne

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Unicorn

Unicorn  You were a figment of daydream, all the quirks and intricacies  of my little girl fantasies  manifested in reality.  Charmed, I fell, against better judgment, stumbling as though intoxicated under spell, blinded by the pixie dust twinkling around your head.   I should have known I was imagining you in that moment, hallucinating, because after I wiped the dust from my eyes, I saw you weren’t perfect after all.

Listen to All Time Low. That’s my only advice for the day.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

The Saga of a Heart

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