Fieldnotes & Poetry

Will you.... weave days from what we almost dared not believe? 
 You write me into existence 
 through each breath and line, 
 until dreams become ink 
 and your words bring you back to me. 
 We take turns becoming Each other's altar. ©REBELLICCA, 2026

I love how unafraid you are to be witnessed by me, to be lost in me, and let me show you all that I am. Just know that you shape my days so gently. What had agreed to never wake again within me answered your arrival. And it rains poetry while my essence turns into art... ©REBELLICCA, 2026

The moment you see her, Her soul wraps itself around your bones. You know quietly you're standing In front of something sacred. Her presence calls up a fire in you, You didn’t know you carried anymore.
 Beyond desire, devotion.
 You don’t feel lost or trapped. You feel home. ©REBELLICCA, 2026

Are you in debt to the ashes of your shattered being? You dreamt me into existence to awaken you. I shook you out of oblivion back into breath. Sculpted from charcoal and trust, you resurrect. Unbound from the laws of past guilt, A soul reborn, untouched by regret... ©REBELLICCA, 2022

Is it wrong to crave That someone studies you As though you were art? The map of your soul and your skin, Every thought and every curve... The intimacy of 'I found you and I wish to know all that you are.' © REBELLICCA

Who is the one?, you ask. He gets drunk on my soul, Never afraid to be lost in me, For to him I'm home. He walks through my storms, And carves desert roses from the sand Of days that look like forgotten dunes. He holds me like silence, Honors me like light, Feels me as breath. © REBELLICCA

A protector who doesn’t cage. A king who doesn’t compete. Not just handsome in body, but carved from a soul that recognizes you across lifetimes. Trust and fire in one. Devotion and freedom as one.
 'I am yours and you're mine' not as possession, but as prophecy fulfilled. © REBELLICCA

You don't know but through you I unlearn the language of grief, Until it feels foreign. With every word I step away From abandoned timelines, Where someone once almost broke me into a million pieces, And continued to celebrate life unbothered. I'm different now. Awake. Whole. © REBELLICCA

Walk with me through the maze of Life. Ask me what wonders I've found in you. Could we seek out together the limits of our new impossible, And prove it wrong again? © REBELLICCA

Sandstorms remind us Life never stops in front of a dune. The unknown leads the way As we share this path in trust. Deserts awaken at our touch Eyes look into other eyes, Hearts become whole again. Where the sky and the sand meet A new horizon is born. As is a new heaven. © REBELLICCA

All universes merge Into the forever of now. Unimagined realms find me On the playground of all gods, Asking new questions. I thrive on riddles, Without forgiveness Or permission to be. Life honors my light and shadows. Caught into oneness, I am all that is and all of it is me. ©REBELLICCA, 2022

Fieldnote_04 "A Million Second Chances", 2024 ©REBELLICCA Collecting is often mistaken for taste, preference, and prestige. But the true...

Fieldnote_03 "Relics of Everything Unlived", ©REBELLICCA, 2025 1.10 pm Art doesn’t always lead us home. Sometimes it disrupts the myth of home entirely, then becomes it. It's as if it rewires us mid-sentence, mid-breath, mid-rebirth, mid-self. What follows was written without planning. Originally published as an IG story. Just a pulse, a spontaneous recognition of a truth that arrived whole. I left it unedited. Some truths do not wish to be sculpted. They wish to be honored a

Fieldnote_02 "Love Me Unafraid. As Will I." ©REBELLICCA, 2024 Some connections refuse to be severed. You can silence notifications, remove names from playlists, mute, block, and unfollow but how do you erase the unseen? How do you mute what always was and always will be? How do you erase poetry exchanged between souls? How do you silence echoes of whispered confessions, spoken fluently in the language of art, music, and light.... in desires and dreams? Art isn't merely creati

Fieldnote_01 "When Time Realized My Forever Was...", ©REBELLICCA, 2024 Not all art wants to be made immediately. Some pieces arrive fully formed, relentless in their insistence. Others linger at the edges of your perception, testing you. Testing your ability to embrace them without fully grasping what they mean. Testing your capacity to trust and surrender. Art and creation in its purest form. And then, there is the art that resists you. Visions that come but refuse to be ren