Lessons learned

whether wrong or right
the outcome matters not
as much as it’s perceived
for her; you see,
in every battle
she has stood proudly
at the final call
knowing that whether she succeeded
in taming the fire
or wound up burned
still a lesson was learned,
and, frankly, there’s no loss in that.

-MCR.

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unleavened

Sights and sounds of mirth
Surrounded by fresh spring love births
While I, here, in full bloom
Wilt
Unleavened
Like dough left in the proof box too long
No I guess it doesn’t make sense
Such are my midnight contemplations
They squirm and writhe with melancholy
Afflicted by your parting words
Turning over and over and over;
I am not one for repeating
The same mistake twice,
Instead thrice, or more times
Just in case

-MCR.

Words in Chaos (AKA Poetry)

An ode to every wordsmith who finds release in their writing. xx

Aching to bear witness
To this fractured soul,
To tear off this tight skin
And expose the truth within;
I see the world in hues
Of colored feelings, overflowing
In my river of ruminations;
Wild heart housed by these sleeves,
Inscribed on torn pages,
Sympathetic to atmospheric vibrations,
More comfortable with pen than tongue,
And I’m not the only one;
See I’ve tried to explain
How the written word keeps me sane,
But, unless you’re a writer,
You might not understand
This need to dive headfirst into the tumultuous sea,
Unable to stay put on dry land.

-MCR.

Spectator


I stood outside myself
A spectator looking through a window
Feeling without experiencing much
I built walls to keep out the gray
Casting aside my own sun instead
Suffocating –
You pried open the door to my soul
And finally let some air in

—MCR.