Posted in poetry

Growing Up

Growing Up

I should be in bed by now, but I just couldn’t sleep without writing this poem. Now that it’s done, I bid you goodnight…

–Leanne

Posted in love, poetry

Ghost Hunting

Ghost Hunting  He appeared in front of me like an apparition.  I blinked for weeks, expecting the lights to stop playing tricks on my eyes, but the evidence of his existence only solidified as this spirit before me exposed its form, no longer desire’s ghost, but a corporeal truth affirmed by touch, my ear to his chest, his beat, by the pain in my cheeks, laughing from joke to joke, and by the promise  that we could see the other, that it was real.   —Leanne Rebecca

She’s in Prison has been my baby for 2 1/2 years, and possibly the most crucial 2 1/2 years in terms of growing up. I can look back through the archives and relive all the phases of my early 20’s. Now I enter a new phase of discovering who I am while sharing all of me with another person.

If you’ve noticed my absence on here the past couple months it’s because I’ve been doing just that: dedicating every spare moment I have to falling helplessly in love.

I hope you had a great weekend!

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, Music, poetry

This Heart that Beats

I wish I knew how to write myself a love letter, wish my arms could wrap around my heart, cradle the weight in my palms and breathe the electricity of the beat, feel the strum of my guitar beneath my fingers, let fly the fear held captive in unbroken tears, and trust that I am beautiful, write that I am beautiful that it doesn’t matter that he couldn’t see it and he couldn’t see it and he couldn’t see it.  I love that I don’t want to pretend that I don’t miss him, heart zipped up, mended as if it had never cracked. I’m mismatched, stitched by time, how some days it disappears and others feel like years, losing moments to old emotions, the fool caught in yesterday,  picking at old scabs.   I wish I could forgive the girl that fell. I want to tell her that I love her and that she should never regret the size of her own heart, her capacity to admire, her courage to feel, her strength to invite him to see her art, even if he couldn’t see it, and he couldn’t see it, and he couldn’t see it.  I want to write myself a love letter, sing my worth, guitar in hand and trust that I am beautiful.   —Leanne Rebecca

I ran out of time today to do everything that I wanted to do. I need to remember that it doesn’t make me a failure, but that my life is full.

Tonight I’m listening to acoustic Sleeping with Sirens and Grizfolk. I want to lose myself in the lyrics like I did yesterday at Warped Tour, closing my eyes and feeling the music of each band, letting it grab hold of my soul and claim a part of me, even for just a second.

I discovered a band called Onward Etc. If there’s one thing you’ll take away from this blog post, it’s to listen to them and find your own poem in their lyrics.

Good night loves.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, twenty one pilots, writing

This Heart

This Heart  She wrote her heart into a notebook, writing the beat in her secrets, infusing the lines with jagged tears, the breaks and palpitations of falling with no one to catch you.   She hoped her heart would find a home in the pages, hugged by memories cast into words and stored on a shelf.  But her heart refused to live only in ink, rebelling in her chest, punching at her lungs and demanding a voice more profound than poetry, screaming in severe chest pains for love.

This poem is inspired by “Before You Start Your Day” by Twenty One Pilots. It’s one of their most melancholy songs and brings me to tears just about every time I hear it. I listened to it on repeat as I wrote this poem. It requires deep introspection, allowing yourself to really feel what’s going on inside. This poem was hard to write but sometimes those are the most important ones to get out.

Sleep well, my friends.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Those Eyes

Those Eyes  The eyes in the picture smoldered in more dimensions  than the photograph’s possibility, beckoning like portals to another story that danced on the other side of the visible world.   She didn’t grant many people the opportunity to jump through her mysteries preferring to keep her oceans obscure, offering only flash glances, enticing them to want to know what lived beyond, to understand why she chose  to not put mascara on her bottom lashes that day.

Today is my 2 year anniversary of this ol’ blog. It’s strange to go back and look and some of the old posts and remember where I was emotionally when I wrote those poems. Sometimes I’m in awe that I even wrote them. Actually, I was going through a tough time when I started She’s in Prison. My struggle was the catalyst of finding an outlet. I fear looking into that past and remembering that dark place. But, I guess that dark place inspired something pretty great. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished on here and I thank all of you so much for sticking with me through it all.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, Guest post, poetry, writing

Guest Post: The Village Thinker

Guest Post by The Village Thinker

About the Author:

A a young Ghanaian student-poet, Nana Arhin Tsiwah know in poetry circles as “The Village Thinker” uses livid words to tell tales of old, of history and tradition.

More from The Village Thinker…


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Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

Protection

Protection

“Between Your Lines” is hands down my favorite Chunk! No, Captain Chunk song, so obviously, I had to write a poem inspired by it. I wrote this one awhile ago, but the time never felt right to publish it. Today seemed to fit for some reason.

Anyway, thanks for checking out my strings of words and taking a moment out of your busy life for a poetry break. Have a great rest of your weekend!

Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

In Return

In ReturnWhen I started She’s in Prison almost a year ago, I promised myself that I’d be transparent in my writing. I vowed to share the tough stuff, even if it hurt or I felt exposed or uncomfortable. This is one of those poems, which may be a surprise because I recognize that the message is simple. I struggled in writing it, I admit. I don’t see the point in putting up a front that I’m uber confident in each and every one of my pieces. Truth is, I’m not, which I like even better. The words you see above are inspired by emotions I’m working through in this moment and I don’t feel I’ve been able to capture them fully. But as I was listening to “I Got You” by Leona Lewis, I knew I had to try.

Come back next Sunday for more poetry inspired by songs on my playlist. Also, don’t forget to hit the follow button on the left and hit me up on Twitter too!