Posted in loneliness, poetry, truth

Wake Me Up

Wake Me Up  The crumbs of yesterday aren’t moving, irritating this space with hyper-stillness: the trash on the kitchen table, yoga mat rolled out on the floor, electric guitar left plugged in, the empty beer bottle and  the peanut butter jar on the counter.  The ghosts of the girl I was yesterday  haunt the room with whispers  of what I couldn’t find today: an identity.    —Leanne Rebecca

This is the type of poetry I write when I’m listening to Wake Me Up When September Ends on repeat. I spent all night learning it on the guitar and the melancholy of it has infiltrated my entire body. A weird place to be right now.

Good night.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, honesty, poetry, writing

Black Hole

Black Hole  What do you write about  when you’re listening to songs about love the week before Valentine’s day, holding on to how breathtaking the sunset was yesterday as the melancholy of another year is settling into the cracks of your skin?  You can’t, because you can’t describe the way it feels, that numbness in your chest, that buzzing of nothingness that hums like florescent lights, tinting the surroundings a little sickly, a green and yellow hue that accentuates the purple veins in your skin, the only proof there’s blood still flowing, that you’re not invisible.  You listen to the acoustic melodies  of someone else’s beating heart and pretend it doesn’t bother you that no one’s ever told you they love you.

I couldn’t sleep last night. My brain raced and raced and finally at 6 am I decided to just get up and shower. Isn’t it strange how sometimes the things we want the most we just can’t have. I just wanted to sleep in on a Saturday, but some force out there in the universe had a different plan.

–Leanne Rebecca

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

Be Concerned

Be ConcernedThis week I’ve favored the word “melancholy,” not quite feeling sad, not quite feeling happy, not quite sure what I want, conflicted, comfortable, and on edge all at the same time. This melancholy state has allowed me to take a few moments of introspection and reflect upon my goals, my hopes, and my confidence. Hearing the Twenty One Pilots song “Be Concerned” this morning, I felt drawn to the dichotomy of the music: the sense of purity that contrasts with the raw verse of the rap. I listened a couple times, and then before even perceiving that I’d picked up a pen, I’d written a poem.

Thanks for stopping by. If you have a second, check out the archives of all my Twenty One Pilots inspired poetry and give a listen to their music below. Also, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. What are you feeling conflicted about right now?