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He
He doesn’t like children’s books,
But I do.
He doesn’t like children’s movies,
But I do.
I wonder if I could sit down with him,
At dinner maybe,
If he’d like me.
I suppose he liked everyone.
He was allowed to like everyone.
He likes what he’s allowed to like,
He doesn’t like to be told what to do.
He doesn’t like other children,
In fact,
I don’t think he likes himself.
I never knew children could be like that,
So in their own heads.
He could hardly keep his on his shoulders.
He thinks when he grows older and taller,
He’ll be able to run farther with the longer legs.
He hopes to be able to reach the sun he spent hours biking after.
I hope one day when we meet,
When we cross paths on our way to the sun,
He likes me.
I’m not the kindest to him,
He’s so damn kind to me.
Why?
I think he knew,
As I ripped him apart,
As I hollowed him out,
As I buried him deep,
He’ll never reach the sun.
We’ll never reach the sun.
But I do.
He doesn’t like children’s movies,
But I do.
I wonder if I could sit down with him,
At dinner maybe,
If he’d like me.
I suppose he liked everyone.
He was allowed to like everyone.
He likes what he’s allowed to like,
He doesn’t like to be told what to do.
He doesn’t like other children,
In fact,
I don’t think he likes himself.
I never knew children could be like that,
So in their own heads.
He could hardly keep his on his shoulders.
He thinks when he grows older and taller,
He’ll be able to run farther with the longer legs.
He hopes to be able to reach the sun he spent hours biking after.
I hope one day when we meet,
When we cross paths on our way to the sun,
He likes me.
I’m not the kindest to him,
He’s so damn kind to me.
Why?
I think he knew,
As I ripped him apart,
As I hollowed him out,
As I buried him deep,
He’ll never reach the sun.
We’ll never reach the sun.
Published 26th Jun 2024
Author's Note
When you see a photo of yourself smiling as a kid, I don’t think I’m happier now. I was a pretty sad kid.
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