Auspicious beginnings rear auspicious breeds
Mine began at inception
Genetically infected
By a predilection towards deception
And so a hit man I became
The first hit took place upon conception
Where I died during delivery
As cord bound noose about my throat
Yet I was revived
Blue eyes clouded by a touch of grey
I wasn’t supposed to survive,
This was never the intention of the seed that sparked my life
Therefore fostered I became
As days would follow
Knowledge I soaked
Detailing the plots and the plans
To which this intelligence would unveil
They were a simple lot
The ones who called me son
They were not my blood
But this did not stop them
From loving me as their own
The son they could never have
And so a fondness within me grew
An attachment bonded me to these two
Yet even they could see it early
In my eyes something was not correct
They wished the world for my life
However, I had another path in mind
Investigations taught me well
How I was the weapon used
I was the means to an end
For a man betraying vows
For a man who cared not for morality
My birthing was a masquerade
In fact I was the centerpiece behind a frame
That would live to become both cause and cover up
Yet truth was told, the truth I knew
The planning was ingenious
The paternal forethought was clever
The execution of his plan was careful and resolute.
He pricked holes in his lambskin coats, knowing mother had a tunnel that couldn’t cope. He understood her greatest flaw was her passion for life that all things happen, for a reason.
Her devotion to religion, her belief system, taught her to behave predictable. He knew this and more.
When she found out first, that I was alive inside, she swelled up; I became the blessing she had always sought. The doctors and professionals explained her life would very likely be lost, if she continued forward down this path. She wouldn’t stray; it was not her way, even when they said it was an unlikely scenario that either of us would ever breathe after delivery took its toll. Even then she clung to the faint hope, that a family we would be, as she returned from her recovery.
As days grew close, the woman saw, a glimmering wonder within her husbands’ eye. She knew a deception had been played, yet she couldn’t prove the matter. There would be no basis for any claim. Yet, the paranoia did not matter much, she was grateful for the wonder in her womb. She was in love with the idea, a mother she would be.
The day then came.
Blood was everywhere.
Flooding stainless steel
She had no chance- in so much pain
We both knew it couldn’t last
Out of mercy I pushed forth
Ending her journey
Beginning mine
To the much chagrin of the paternoster my father would never see in me.
Feigned grief he shed
Tears trickled down
Method acting at its best
A smile only peaked upon his cheeks
The day he received the return on policy
The next afternoon
He pretended his grief had grown
That I was too much a chore,
Too delicate and fragile for his type to bear
The plot was impossible to prove
Yet the figures added perfect
To the master plot he spun
If it weren’t for me
Vengeful justice would have never swam
For her, she deserved better
So retribution was left to me
I had to become
The hit man I was birthed to be
Many hours
Plotting, learning, watching, waiting
Late nights documenting routine
Swallowing the vomit he induced in me
Then one day he stopped and stared
Approached the car, unaware of who I was
Intently, behind the wheel, I heard the tapping on the glass
Neck I turned as glass beside dipped down,
Between steel and air
He asked who I was and why I was there
I wanted to scream, “Remember me”
I’ve got his eyes
Perhaps jawline too
“Tired, needed a break” was all my lips could stir
He walked away and stared back again
Shook his head and left my stay
The next day, an anniversary of birth,
And as a gift to myself, an accident I had
For all the years I’ve buried down,
Each vision of impulse
Every plotted point I’ve had
The collision was severe
Crashing metal driving steel
Eclipsed a budding metropolis
At the intersection of Main and 1st
Our cars met head on
Accidental but mentally rehearsed
The police examined me as I recovered. They took careful notice, of the stitches on both head and hand. They thought it was too coincidental to be a coincidence at all. What were the odds, that on my birthday, I should collide, with the man who provided me life? Too Oedipal to go unnoticed. Too impossible to believe, but a case like this they’d never before seen. A man like me they wished well. For not only did a car betray my lane, the driver happed be the man who had birthed my seed. Like a crocodile, tears thickly made their way. Slow and methodically, I didn’t bite; it was all they had.
And prove they could not
And with one act of will
I made things right, I took away his life,
Inheriting his everything
This was hit number two
But the cogs kept spinning, severe and fierce
I realized that every trace of him must be wiped clear
I searched for others and more there were
Many seeds of his, alive out there
Abandoned sons and daughters
Estranged lovers and displaced kin
Espoused in anonymity
Each year a gift I endow
Simply noting
They’re not alone
That people do care for you
And thus the third hit was done
I’ve since stopped count
Yet continue on I do
Until another figures this all out
The traces and the history
Of a family steeped in infamy
And if that child should concoct
A vengeful plot, in their father’s name
For disallowing them the possibility
To ask the questions they keep.
To which I would tell that child, I know exactly how you feel, where you’ve been.
Completing the cycle, where the last hit, will again be me.
