i caught the streetlights turning on and hfs

A Poem by Everett Dulin

in the pov of my father, about my father, a schizo. i promise its not a joke

harambe
didn't deserve to die.

they shot him once,
shot him twice.
it was my
epiphanic demise.

i have a son,
and i hated him.
the same vein of my pyrrhic wins
i hated his stony soulless eyes,

ones jade, my own,

mine very mine.

i'm the one, i threw my son

into the pit

free of that burden

in resent, i ran away
with my desire path
along that broken i95.

now i'm addicted to fentanyl,
and krokodil,
to melt familiar skin
beneath acid bones,
a golden idol.
to love again,
to have a spotless mind

with innocence weaponized

harambes blameless crushing

ill drop my boy

and ill head to agarthas rim

i had a son
and i hated him
i chose myself
and that EVA i couldn't get in.
his mother doesn't love me.
she never loved him.

i threw my son into that f*****g pen.

hoping harambe, would kill him.
the warden saw, with his scoped cane.
he shot down with a silvery rain.

and left my son alone and alive.