A Discarded Tail The Lizard Left Behind by MacKenzie Lee
Just be
yourself.
how dare you suggest I know who that is.
Up until now when I’ve looked in the mirror
I haven’t been entirely sure which side I’m on.
Just be
present.
when right now is
a moment from two weeks
ago and tomorrow, braided
down the back of my scalp, twisted
into my spinal cord in preparation and simultaneously remembrance from
when I am thirty
and happy.
more than likely engaged to
consequence, but still making
love to the all the dreams
I have lugged around since I was
ten. Beauty backstabs the beholder,
lodging itself into my eye
like a woodchip from the monkey bars.
So, Just be
fine.
or ok,
or whatever ten cent word it takes
to get them off your back,
because you don’t have to tip
the waiter at family dinner. try
and grate at the daydreams
until the edges are smooth,
palatable, and mom says “when.”
don’t think about it too much
when she sends it back to the kitchen,
where the chef bobs for apples
until the plate shimmers with gilded
aspirations and ornamental basil.
it was too cold. or cynical. the dish just wasn’t
recognizable. and no one is hungry anymore,
and it’s all your fault because you couldn’t
Just be
quiet.
Just be
sure.
Just be Just be Just Just Just Just
Just doesn’t look like how it is supposed
to be spelled but I’m
Just confused, and this is
Just a life and
Just a time and Just
enough will happen or not
for loved ones i haven’t met
yet to speak beautifully tragic
utterances at my funeral, where living
up to my potential left me rolling
in the mud with the rest of the forgotten limbs.
MacKenzie Lee is a senior theatre and performance major, and creative writing minor. MacKenzie is originally from Atlanta, Georgia, where she was casually introduced to poetry in school. However, her real interest was born in Dr. Gary Mcdowels Advanced Poetry class where conversations with peers and the professor about the craft of poetry inspired many of the works MacKenzie has created.