KWON (Fist/권)

the gripping interference in the way of all i hold dear, i lock opportunity in my fist and hold on tightly,

white-knuckling iron bars, car windshields cracking in sunlight,

like fracking for oil,

i’m digging through soil.

a bright mind damages the vision of those around it, stare at the sun too long and the sun multiplies-three suns, two of which are blind eyes,

i wished to navigate my unholy universe with my eyes closed. open eyes, open fire, open meaning vulnerability, open meaning communication;

swords and firearms aren’t needed since i own a capable hand, i curl my fingers inward and crush stardust in my palm,

locking black holes within with my thumb, by holding stardust close to me, i examine the ingredients of creation. the origin wasn’t supposed to spiral inward,

but a robot can stray off-pattern and an auto-driven car can find its own-albeit, incorrect-direction. i want nothing more than to take security and cuddle it like i would a child,

and would the child cuddle me? robot heart, body falling apart, star-crossed failure upon the meeting of the desired result, the statistics aren’t in my favor.

i envied those with love and now yearn for power, for power is something that i am capable of manipulating-

if i lose a loved one, it is always my fault. like she said. ‘you’re a beautiful soul stuck in a robot’s body and i

can’t be there to fix that for you.’ she said that. she said that my bemoaning is only excuses, my punches are thrown in the dark,

i am an incapable master of the war against mirrors, i look inward once again and order battalions against the lions in the glass,

i will have everything i want, not what i need which is love,

and love is something that i have no ownership of.

embers in eyes that have turned solid black, opaque like a snake,

ink swirls in an esoteric corkscrew, marking the point of no return.

i am that point of no return. nothing moves past me without my knowledge, nothing hurts me that i cannot contort, cutting, to make me feel clever.

a boxer in isolation only fights his reflection, so who am i to say that i am victorious?

no one should try to understand me-i, too, am a stroke of lightning against the sky that fades in a split second.

i-yes, me-am like a house cat in a hurricane, one made a tiger through scars.