SUBMISSION: Poetry by Mackenzie Rogers

He listened to classical music

He smelled of old books that he spent reading the night before

He had an indie style that turned my heart into wings that flew into his hands

There he held me tight and it was us against the world-

Trying to escape the norm of reality that had oppressed our generation to the point where love was only being naked to a stranger

A date was sitting together while on your phone tapping away at photoshopped pictures that tuned out to be our warped society

And a first kiss ended up being your last since you would not show him your inner beauty that was still pure

Our love was one where we spent endless hours listening to vinyl that were buried deep at a music store

For we knew its worth-

Just like he knew mine and I knew his

We were like a record that was thrown away and smelled of dust

If you listened to what’s inside, you could hear its beauty and see the art with your eyes shut.

-My Old Fashioned Heart

M.F. Rogers


I want to dream-

    I want to be taken to a land far away

I don’t want to feel

    The pain of yesterday

I want to ride on my boat of dreams-

    Which sails me to my hopes and treasures-

Where I can fly and touch the sky

    To start over  

where I’m pure and my soul is light-

        Not

Weighted down by fears and doubt

    I want to dream of tomorrow-

Where we can start over and feel no sorrow

    For I am pure and so are you

With each new day comes a new clue-

    For us to find what we are looking for

It’s for us to find what we all crave

We’ve given our hearts to find this one thing that could change everything

And this is the true meaning of happiness you see-

    It’s what gives life to you and me

What fuels our souls day and night-

    It’s what gives you light when you are in the shadows of life

It comes to us in different ways-

    We see it every day-

Differently we do

    Different from me and you

But that doesn’t mean it’s not true-

    Happiness is found all around

And that’s why I want to dream-

    So I can find that ray of light-

Which will take me to the site-

    Where I will find what I am looking for

            -Wonder

                M.F. Rogers

 


The uneasiness of his stare made my heart freeze.  The way he would bite his lip and stare down at the notes, for which he scribbled.  Suddenly I had the inability to stay still. All I could do was just sit in a mountain of frustration.  A cool breeze of insecurities embraced me. The pounding thoughts of judgement filled my head, and the only thing I could hear was the clicking of his pen.

                            -Therapy

                                M.F. Rogers


The ink drips from my lips

    And falls onto the paper

To create the words I cannot speak-

For they will be muted by reality

-Insignificant

    M.F. Rogers


My gentle heart has the ability to tame the words-

    and put them onto paper

        -The Writer

            M.F. Rogers


Even though I cry out in a way that is silent, no one comes

Alone I am

But there is someone who is my only ‘friend”

She criticizes me

Judges me for how I look when I face the mirror

The mirror –

        My biggest oppression

It holds me down under the pain of my reflection

            -The Whispers to Myself

                M.F. Rogers


I look at everyone

We all experience the same day differently

But yet we are all the same inside-

The same bones which have felt pain-

            Eyes with different colors that I’ve seen suffering-

                The legs- tired and weak from exhaustion

Our heart-

they beat to the sounds of tears of the lonely ones that cry out in the dead of night

    -The Coffee Shop

        M.F. Rogers


I feel my skin, the soft and pure flesh that covers my body like a blanket-

    Protecting its insides from the dangers of the world

My flesh which I have torn with each silver blade, tries to heal-

    But over time the words they spew come to play

My body is no longer mine….it’s theirs

    I am like a puppet and they are my master-

You control me with your words-

    Making me think of myself with the adjectives you use to describe me

                -My Beautiful Scars

                    M.F. Rogers