BRIAN SEUNGHEON KIM

125: a haibun 

                  “Man Hit Woman in the Head 125 Times Because She Was Asian, Officials Say” 
                  – The New York Times 

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I read the headlines and I go numb. Knowing that somewhere in my brain, the impact was a little less than the one before. That is the thing that makes me the most infuriated. Cold as void. Hot as sun. Part of me wonders what the reasoning for all this is. What is gained from it? But I know there is no reason. Only madness, weakness, and fear. “THIS IS NOT COMMON,” I tell myself. Mentally banging my head to remind myself with a droplet of the pain that my people have endured. The deaths that we have seen. The deaths we imagine. This could’ve been my mother. Fuck. The thoughts rush in. Can I always be- What can I- Should I be prepar- What if I am not with- Should she go ther- Does she have protect- It’s getting late- alone for too long- Hurry ba- Please. Just please. Come back to me always. The injustice. A plague upon a plague. Only, this one actually can’t be mitigated by a mask nor suppressed by a vaccine. No. An age-old curse bewitching us into insanity and chaos. The goal? Division and stagnation. They paint us to look weak. They paint us to be submissive. They shall not see that through by the dawn of night. For we move under the moon. Afterimages entwined with shadow. We are but the thought that paranoia creeps gently then dashes. They underestimate us as always. 

The enemy lies 
Waiting to strike us all down 
Little do they know…

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