It’s amazing how the stories in our brains can seem so different than what everyone else sees. We all have our own realities. Only you know your truth. Love anyway.
–Leanne
Tag: journal
Evaporate
Just appreciating the little things and trying to keep life from passing by too quickly.
–Leanne
Oceans Away
This morning I read through the past 2 years of poems I’ve posted on here. It didn’t take long since my consistency with posting has wavered. I’d forgotten about most of them but it took only seconds to remember where I’d been when I wrote them and what emotions were controlling my pen at the time. It’s been a hell of a couple years. I shunned dating, moved back in with my parents, fell in love, had my heart broken, hated life, went through a couple different jobs and two surgeries, started grad school, lost myself, rediscovered forgotten passions, found myself again, loved life, remembered what it felt like to have a crush on someone and how painful unrequited lust can be. I’ve watched friends and family marry, move away, and follow their dreams while others have struggled through breakups. I’ve questioned my choices and realized that I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. I know one thing though, I feel home when I’m writing.
Thanks for sticking with me through it all.
–Leanne
Birthday Brunch
Regardless of my social ineptitude and longing for human connection, it was a delicious (and vegan) brunch at one of my favorite places. I woke up a little sad yesterday and that sadness followed me all morning and into the afternoon. Sometimes eating a roasted apple crepe with peanut butter and drinking a sunburnt white Russian on a sunshiny day does not negate whatever emotion nags in your heart. The sadness waned though in the afternoon, thanks to a massage, some quiet time with a book at a coffee shop, and a dinner out with my parents and brother. A bipolar birthday for sure.
Self
In second grade I thought I was going to grow up to become a librarian. In fourth grade I saw a documentary about a cave diving marine biologist and decided I’d become a scientist, a dream that lasted until my senior year in high school when I realized I didn’t in fact like studying biology at all. Never through all those years did I think I’d grow up to be a poet. It’s a passion I fell into through taking a chance, one that took coaxing to start, but one I will never regret.
I’ve written a lot about heartbreak lately, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Poetry is the outlet that lets me heal, my real true love. No matter where my heart drifts or cracks, it will always have a home in words. Thank you for listening and letting me sing.
Love,
Leanne Rebecca
Eyelash
I’ve started writing in a diary. I’ve found I like the senseless entries, writing whatever comes to my mind, confessing secrets, knowing no one is ever going to read these words (hopefully). One of my favorite teachers back in college used to tell us to write for 15 minutes a day, no matter what it was. The whole point was to develop the discipline to write. I used to write lists of what I did that day or complain about my homework. But then I finished that class and the journal entries stopped.
About two months ago I started them again, maybe not every single day, but whenever I feel like it. This poem is inspired by what I wrote in my journal today during my lunch break, scribbles about it being February and how it’s the month of love. It provoked a particular memory, something profound that happened to me in a February past, and before I knew it, I’d written this poem.
What do you think of when you think of February?
–Leanne Rebecca
She's in Prison 