She plays with her food,
pushing it around on the plate,
watching the vegetables roll
and the chicken broth drip,
the aroma is mouthwatering.
She tries not to make eye contact with her food
so not to think of the tender juiciness
the chicken would bring,
soon to explode on her tongue,
the crisp crunch the vegetables
will make when they touch her teeth.
She can feel the hunger growing inside her,
an angry beast trying to claw its way out
that she's suppressed for far too long.
She wonders if eating is worth the risk
as she looks down and observes each
part of her frame that isn't ramrod straight,
remembering that she'll never be good enough for anyone,
not even herself.
Dropping her fork as if it were a worm,
she tried not to give eye contact
to the dismantled family sitting at the dismantled table.
"May I be excused?"