To my ten-year old self
I wonder what my ten year old self would think of me if we met right now.
It’s only been six years since I was him.
I’m sure he’d look at me with a smile, with that unbridled joy he always seemed to have. Not for any reason, he was simply just happy to exist.
With his hair in a combover, looking absolutely stupid, he’d look at my now curly hair and wonder why it is so unkempt. He’d probably laugh, finding such a simple thing so funny.
I’d see his bright bluish eyes, full of life and empty of worries. He’d speak to me in a high pitched voice, looking up from his short stature. He’d not stutter, he’d ramble on about his new friend he’d met about five seconds ago.
And what would I say to him? How could I bring myself to tell him that happiness is no longer a commodity? I could never crush his childish dreams, I could never tell him that they would never come to fruition.
And I wonder what he’d think of himself in his not-so-later years. He would never understand how six years could beat someone down to their knees and hold their face against the harsh ground. His brain is simply not advanced enough to understand the feelings I feel today.
I’d leave him be. I’d lie to his face and say everything’s okay. Because he deserves to use what time of happiness he has left, the clock is ticking. Once he grows to be thirteen, he’ll figure it all out.
Hi everyone, thanks for reading! I just want to say, I'm a beginner writer, I am 16. So obviously it won’t be that great. But I hope some can relate to this. And If you’ve seen this poem before, it’s because I post my poems on tiktok under this same name (damthatriver). If you’ve haven’t, I really hope you enjoyed it.