Tag: sanity

Posted in poetry

Introspection

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Introspection When nighttime cries behind your eyes and shadows chase the moon across the hollow sky, I find a tree and walk a limb and listen to the fear inside, tomorrow’s death and yesterday’s hush, the dust of the past the blush of desire, close my hand around this heart on fire, the pulsating rush of creative expression, and let the rise of passion consume my soul in sanity’s demise, an obsession of unpredictable intention begging the question do I trust myself enough to fly? —Leanne Rebecca

Do you trust yourself?

Posted in art, desire, poetry, writing

Sunday Morning

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Sunday Morning She woke with a breath, a single stream of light shooting like an arrow into her squinting eye. She stretched her arms wide, covering the expanse of the empty bed, hand lingering on the untouched pillow, longing tensing in her stomach like starvation. She hated the need for him, that he consumed her first thoughts on a Sunday morning, that he robbed her sanity. She rolled over, gathering an armful of comforter, hugging tight, cuddling something other than emptiness, holding on to something other than all the words she’d said to a brick wall.

I like the freedom of Sunday mornings, that I could sleep indefinitely if I wanted, that I can waste the morning making pancakes and then eat them in bed. I rarely make plans for Sundays, just drift through the day and see what happens, let who I see be a surprise.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Mayhem

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Mayhem