Tag: voice

Posted in honesty, journal entry, poetry

Recycled

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Recycled

I often tell people that my blog followers know more about me than anyone. I’ve never felt afraid to spill my secrets on here, mostly because I’ve only ever received support, never judgment. I like that I can write about my insecurities and struggles like I would in a journal entry, a freedom I’ve come to rely on, one that has helped me immensely in gaining confidence. I’ve started to appreciate my vulnerability as a strength and have realized that if I don’t have any fear to write about having an eating disorder or obsessions over boys on my blog, then there is no reason to hide that honesty from the people in my daily life.

I used to bottle my emotions. I never wanted to burden anyone around me with what I was feeling and my silence drove me over the edge. Few knew that I was spending my free time sobbing in my car, driving through a veil of water, alone and lost. I kept it all in until I didn’t know how to handle it anymore and I came to the conclusion that the only way to make the pain stop was to kill myself. This was 3 years ago, a time I never want to relive. I use music, writing, and an always jam-packed social life to make sure I never have to.

Since then, I’ve made it my mission to be honest with myself about my emotional health and also honest with the people around me. I don’t hide my struggles. In fact, I embrace them. I’m not afraid anymore to text a good friend and say, “hey, I’m struggling. Are you free?” What I’ve learned is astonishing. The more that I open up, the more the people around me feel comfortable to open up. It turns out that we are all fighting battles and most of us are holding them in. Now that I know the importance of talking through my insecurities, aches, and irrationalities, it’s become my mission to help the people around me open up too.

One of my best friends said recently that he wasn’t sure why, but whenever he hung out with just me, he felt comfortable talking about what was bothering him. I think it’s because we trust each other, a trust that was built upon a mutual understanding that we could be straight with one another. I will always have your back if you have mine, an unspoken agreement that started with honesty about what was below the surface.

My point with all this is that if I didn’t have poetry or this amazing community on here to help me work through all this, I’d still be that girl that hides how I’m feeling, invisible because I was too scared to let anyone see me. I thought, if I just hide my flaws, then I’ll be safe. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I’m the safest when I expose my quirks, even the embarrassing ones, like having no self control in how often I text boys I have crushes on or that I like “16 year old girl” music. I want people to see ME, to know ME, to appreciate ME, because there is no other version of ME that should ever exist.

Thank you for sticking with me. You have my back and I promise, I have yours.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in death, life, poetry

Never Again

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Never Again I do what I can to avoid that place, that head space when I needed an end to escape friendlessness, the torment not being able to feel my own breathing, a carcass driving aimless going nowhere, those days alone listening to song after song, wishing home felt like home, wishing my voice could rise, that invisible me could be seen. Those days may have died as I learned to dispose of emotion, crying out the suicide, leaving the drops of intention to dry in a trail behind. But the scar still haunts, still taunts at this heart, whispers no one else can hear or know to understand, to allow my hand to hold a little tighter, to feel their pulse against mine, to help me feel alive. I do what I can to avoid that place, incessant texts, aggressive pursuit of connection, random sex and make out sessions, singing as loud as scabbed lungs will allow, forcing your fingers in mine and pulling you close, begging you to stay so that I’m not alone, afraid, betrayed by the yesterdays when the threat of death was the only time I felt relevant. —Leanne Rebecca

Tonight I’m obsessed with the song “Scene Four – Don’t You Ever Forget About Me” by Sleeping with Sirens. I’m pretty sure my roommate hates me because I just played it about 7 times in a row:

Don’t you ever forget about me
When you toss and turn in your sleep
I hope it’s because you can’t stop thinking about
The reasons why you close your eyes
I haunt your dreams at night
So you can’t stop thinking about me
Don’t stop thinking about me

Do you really think you could see this through
Put on a smile and wear it for someone new
Don’t you do it
‘Cause I know I’m not the easiest one to love
But every ounce I have
I invest in you
But no one said love’s not for taking chances

Hitting home.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in Music, poetry

The Biggest Disappointment

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

The Biggest Disappointment He never knew the real me— the first year too nervous to say the wrong thing, the second pretending to be something else so he would see me as whatever it was he wanted that wasn’t me, trapped in someone else’s poetry, obsessed with this image, starving my integrity, my body, to play a game he didn’t want to play until I pushed and pulled so hard that I lost the one person that understood that words are not just words, ever, lost, before he even heard me.

We all make mistakes. Some carry a little more weight than others and the consequences rain harder. There’s no trick to overcoming mistakes, except maybe to let go of regret.

I went to a Matt and Kim concert last night. They have this one song called “Now” that sums it up perfectly:

I know that things aren’t perfect
But lets make tonight worth it
Stand up right here take a bow
And we will all ride this thing down
Now

All we can do is move forward and accept our imperfections, accept our mistakes, and try with all our might to not make the same ones again. No guarantees though, and that’s ok. For now, make the most of today.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, twenty one pilots, writing

This Heart

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

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

Under the Influence

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Under the Influence I wept her poems from my eyes ink mixing with freckles wandering the hollows of emotion sewn in the simplicity of her voice. I read them again cross legged as still as silence steeping tea turned bitter. Nothing made sense anymore the eruption of water the knots in my shoulders the unmoving air the last page of a masterpiece, finished, the anticipation of change the waking up the next morning in the same position I fell asleep.

This poem came out of nowhere. I was taking a walk, imagining stories in my head, and it just hit me in the face.

One of my friends lent me Ararat by Louise Gluck last week and I think it changed my life. Everything looks the same from the outside–same job, same breakfast foods–but something’s different, even if I can’t articulate exactly what that means.

I don’t usually publish poems at night. Sweet dreams and thanks for reading.

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, poetry, writing

Scouring Introspection

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Scouring Introspection It built up like dirty dishes— starting with a bowl and a spoon at breakfast ending with months of fungus coating every kitchen surface. One ignored doubt—an errant fork— spiraled into a collection of soiled utensils, pretending they didn’t exist, the most annoying part of washing dishes. The smell was the trigger, the bacteria of rotting confidence permeating beyond the kitchen, drawing attention to the neglect, the lack of attention the need to reflect— the introspection that only comes with plunging hands into soapy water and scrubbing.

I’ve been thinking lately, like really thinking and facing my inner self. I’ve been looking at her in the mirror and not just seeing her but talking to her, asking if she’s ok, asking what she wants and what she’s willing to do to get that. I let her speak and I listened, like really listened. She had a lot to say and I know she’s not done talking. So I promised her I’d give her more of my attention. I’m not just going to let her talk; I’m going to let her sing. 

Happy Tuesday!

–Leanne Rebecca

Posted in art, Music, poetry, writing

Precarious

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

Precarious

The word of the day is ‘precarious.’ I caught myself relying on its beauty multiple times this morning, so clearly, I needed to write a poem based upon it. This one’s inspired by “Basically, I” by Robert Delong. I discovered his music a little less than a year ago and I remain a fan. He’s a cool dude, too. Thanks for taking a break from your Sunday to stop by for a little poetry.

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

Anathema

Posted on by SHE'S IN PRISON

AnathemaToday’s poem is part of my regular Saturday series of poetry inspired by the titles of songs by Twenty One Pilots. “Anathema” is probably one of their lesser known tracks, but still so worthy of commendation and admiration. Give a listen below and check out the archives of my other TOP inspired poetry in the ole archives.