Passed up
The Mothman has important things to tell us
and gibbers dementedly
incomprehensibly.
It matters to the Mothman
and he makes us care.
You, though, for one who must
communicate to live,
you are piss-poor at it.
I know that you don’t care about me
and I should have caught on earlier
that I was nothing to you.
Let myself believe it.
Your loss.
I wanted you for myself
but I wanted you for you, too.
I would have been the best thing
that ever happened to you
and that is not a boast
because look.
look at the extrapolation
and the determination
and the kindness.
Intelligence, energy, willingness,
and infinite patience.
The love and understanding
which are not
and never will be
chopped liver.
You are not your best self
and your potential
lacks substance.
You believe in your own
inadequacy, though
I’m telling you it’s a lie.
It’s a lie.
I would have been able
or at least had a fair shot
from the foul line
of helping you to
what you have wanted
all your conscious life.
But you didn’t want it.
Or believe in it.
Not enough to put up
with me.
Another mistake
because there is
a world inside this
humble shell
and you
Well you passed it up.
Sorry about your luck.