he said i wasn’t any kind
of centerfold,
he’d seen it all before and really,
i was barely a centerpiece,
more like a side dish, or a corner
piece of a side dish,
worthy of only plastic utensils

i sat with my stuffed animals
under the table
until Shame left the room
my inner child mumbled
something about bedtime
and nightlights. i said,
you’re not helping

i only came out from under
his splintered table
when the hunger took hold
of my tongue,
whipping me around and back
into shape