fist clenched

Spring 1

there are holes in my mother’s house
i made with my fist clenched.
i covered them in posters
of heroes in capes and
the boots and the belts
and their outer-underwear
with hair jelled with justice
and faces that say things, like:

breathe in, count to five
breathe out, you’re alright
your hand will heal tonight
it’s over, close your eyes

i have anger problems i haven’t faced yet.
knew i had issues when i broke the girl’s bracelet;
it had all this shit that it was engraved with.

something ’bout love,
and something ’bout forever.
i was tryna pick up the pieces
while she sat there in terror.

but some things stay broken.

i’d be lying if i said i haven’t
seen that same scared face since
on different people, usually coupled by
calling me a monster or asshole,
but i’m not evil,

i just have holes in my body
i’ve covered up with posters
of villains in masks with
their weapons and holsters
and big hair, and big heads
and faces that tell me:

breathe in, you know the drill
breathe out, shoot to kill
your fists were meant to fight
i’ll take over, close your eyes

“fist clenched”
©Steven Cuenca

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