Ig-no-r-ing

Do you remember that first painful brush with a sense of being unwelcome? Like a memory when you stand outside a door that is closed on your existence? That quaint pain, that silent, muffled flip flop within when someone ignores  with no sane reason your existence. that unspeakable pain as you bite it away into a piece of unrolled breakfast, ignoring an aunt's cold, conscious ignoring. 

And years down, like an unwanted child, a memory revokes the flip flop within as someone who smiled with warmth ignores you with no valid reason. You sense the conscious effort beside that quaint pain within. And you withdraw within, forever, from all smiles.