Bear of Little Brain

Well, I think I got it.
I understand what you’ve been meaning to say.
You don’t want me.
I’m pretty clear on that
now
but no matter what you say, suggest
or subtly insinuate,
I firmly believe
it wasn’t always this way.

You liked me once
– you did!
I could tell from your smile
your positioning in the room
the way you looked at me and referred to me…
I know that you had some interest.
Even this bear of little brain
could piece that much together.

I’m not smart enough to see what changed,
what I did or didn’t do
to get you to reverse course
or refuse to consider
what had surely seemed so promising before.
I don’t know if I changed perfume
or insulted your religion
or complained too loudly
when you bit me
splitting my lip.

But what seemed so meaningful
so recently,
that which had given days their spice
had vanished,
will-o’-the-wisp receded into the dark.
It is what it is
or was
or whatever.

I’ll miss you
and the opportunity to be
your interest initially presented
but I won’t miss my memories and hopes
of the possibility of an us.
They stay with me still,
your hints as allegations notwithstanding.

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