Author: R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

Nautilus

you were the one who taught me
how to answer a question
with silence
when the answer
on the tip of your tongue
would be too cruel
or too personally revealing,
and how to make that silence
speak volumes. yours
always did. at first
I didn’t understand them.
it took days
or weeks
or sometimes even months
of intense overthinking
to fully understand
what they meant.

Continue reading Nautilus

performance anxiety

you said that you were faking it
on stage the other night.
you claimed that you didn’t feel
any of those emotions
that you sang about
with that mic in your hand.
pardon me if I don’t believe you.
I’m not saying you’re lying.
it’s just that I felt it,
it moved me,
you channeled something
that spoke to me on
a deep level. you
made me feel
all the feels. I wish
you could feel
how very much
you made me
feel.

fall of the queen

my reign was brief;
I was a benevolent
ruler. my title was purely
decorative, and my balloon crown
popped halfway through
the second dance routine.

but I didn’t let it bother me –
I had a lovely time,
until my chariot arrived
to convey me home,
and gradually turned back
into a pumpkin drawn
by six white mice.
I was enraged and got
quite upset.

Continue reading fall of the queen

paradox

go ahead, shoot a nuclear silver arrow
at the sun. then shoot a bullet
at an appletini in a highball glass
resting on my head. if your stupid
theory is correct, both
the sun and I are equally
safe from your weapons,
no matter how good or bad
your aim. except for that pesky detail
of how a dude named William
disproved that before
I was even born.

I never knew you, X,
but clearly this world
was never meant
for one as beautiful
as you.

the toy

I’m just a toy
you took out
because you were bored
and dissatisfied with your life,
and now your present
has come back to haunt you
the way we both
knew that it would.

so now you
must put me back
in the box. I’m no
Velveteen Rabbit;
my fur is barely even worn.
my eyes are still black
and shiny buttons,
my whiskers are
intact.

and here is the sad part:
you say you didn’t mean to do
exactly what you
actually did.
you say you’re not
the kind of person
who does things
like this. but
I’m here to tell you
that it doesn’t matter
what you meant. there’s a
reason for the expression
about actions and how
they speak louder
than words.

but don’t worry. toys
don’t have feelings.