He describes me
in terms he believes to be true.
Small.
Fast in my shorts.
Smaller than.
only I’m not…
and I never was,
not when it counted.
Only in dreams which recapture
my childhood.
Because it always comes back to childhood,
doesn’t it?
I’m still standing
in that stinging spray.
I never left that room,
and I don’t think I ever will.
That at least,
is one small victory.
Written by Jason Wright
October 2, 2018