when i was smaller i was very aware of how
a better, older me would look back
and look down
with malice and shame and see
what a pitiful creature. i. was.

at the time i was the sole object
of my own derision, a grim facsimile
of a human boy, and as i aged myself
in my mind i grew bigger and stronger
and meaner and more beautiful
and i. feared. him.

if i were to meet the boy i was four years
ago he would hate me, sweating under a
black balaclava, laces tied thrice to avoid
getting caught in the gears on his bike, helmet
on his belt, utterly ready. to. run.

i am glad i am not him anymore and
he. knows. it.