Welcome to the Official Blogspot for Leigh Ann DiDomenico, MA aka ANNHGIEL!!

Welcome to the Official Blogspot for Leigh Ann DiDomenico, MA aka ANNHGIEL!!
"The Angel with the Crooked Halo"


Leigh Ann is multi-talented creative freelance professional. She specializes in performance poetry, hosting, modeling, acting, and mixed media visual art. Leigh Ann is a COMMERCIAL, BEAUTY, and PETITE FASHION MODEL and ACTRESS and is available for PAID PRINT, TV, and FILM shoots. Will gladly TRAVEL (expenses paid) for work! Leigh Ann is also a nationally ranked SLAM POET, placing 3rd in the nation and 2nd in the west coast region, and is available to FEATURE at theatres, slams, open mics, and on the radio. She is also a published AUTHOR and an ARTIST who creates and sells unique one-of-a-kind furniture and home decor. Leigh Ann's artwork, ANNHGIEL DESIGNS, can be purchased at 4th Ave by the Tracks in Kalispell, MT, as well as custom ordered. Finally, Leigh Ann has her MASTERS DEGREE in Psychology and is an experienced COUNSELOR, TUTOR, and YOUTH MENTOR.


Please feel free to for booking!! Thank you!!

Friday, July 24, 2009

Time Travellin... (New Poem!!)

She lay in bed with movie screen eyelids 
And see-through skin, so thin that anyone 
Can read her secrets published in bold print between muscle fibers 
She has always preferred to sleep in the dark; door closed, no night-light 
That way she could focus on the crack of light beneath the bedroom door 
And know exactly when shadows of shoes like two dark ghosts crept across her floorboard
Warning her he was coming 
The signal to surround herself in ice 
She is frozen, still and silent like she’d learned long ago. 
The canopy that once loomed so strong above her 
Is now just a heavy shadow 
Though she no longer has to suck breath through 
The fleshy cage clamped over her lips, 
She fears she will never free the trapped screams 
Caught in the web he left in her throat 
Or his silhouette incessantly slithering across her skin 
She wonders if she will ever be able to collapse into bed after a long day of work, 
Let the soft sheets hug her tired muscles, massage them to sleep without 
She never touches the shower wall 
Cold tile shudders memory from bone marrow 
Of being pressed wet against it, feet dangling, stake driven from crotch to heart, 
She wonders if she will ever be able to 
Dig the crusted betrayal from beneath her fingernails 
It seems such a part of her now… 
Or will she ever disentangle the grief knotted inside her jaw? 
The fear still crawls in the cracks of her lips. 
Her boyfriend can’t understand why she won’t have sex with him in the shower 
Can’t stand the sound of him grunting mixed with the spray of water 
And why she can only have sex with the lights on 
So she can see his face 
Shadowy canopies are hard to distinguish 
That day when she first slept with her head above the covers was so triumphant 
No longer curling into herself, face down, 
Hugging her chest tightly between arms and pillow 
Or the first time she made it through the gyno without sobbing 
Breathed herself through their invasion, patient 
Or the first time she used a tampon 
Or the first time she slept without her bra on 
These are her small victories 
See Daddy’s little princess is trying to grow past her past 
But memory curls itself in her crevices and always knocks uninvited. 
She has become an expert in time traveling 
Only hoping to dislodge these visions from the backs of her eyelids 
Maybe then she could travel back 
Tell him about her favorite t-shirt 
The one she used to sniff 
The one she stole off that teddy bear because she liked it better 
And cigarette stained and dirty smelled like comfort and her daddy 
Maybe then he’d have known how much she loved him 
And he would have only touched her 
To hug her 
Tears encrust around the edge of her chin 
As she surrenders matted hair to wet pillow 
And the kindness of sleep begins to creep into her 
And this borrowed shame curled in the pit of her gut 
Uncoils itself 
Dissolves like his smoke 
Like his swarming saliva 
Like her kaleidoscope irises 
And as her dreams begin to float between bits of filthy consciousness
She makes one last wish
That one day her body could feel like home.

Copyright Leigh Ann "Annhgiel" DiDomenico
All Rights Reserved
This poem, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Please contact: lada.04@alumni.lehigh.edu for authorization for credited use.

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