Toothpick People Poem by Faith Elizabeth Brigham

i don't understand how
you could sit across from me
making people out of toothpicks on the table top
as though we weren't in this restaurant where you just picked a fight with me and made me cry
no, i will never understand why

your face devoid of all emotion
your eyes a stony cold
you rearrange your little toothpick people to suit your liking
as you once manipulated me
before the days you had to resort to making scenes in restaurants
just to set me off

i can't help thinking
you see me as one of your little people lifeless and without feelings as though i had a wooden heart
as though you were master of the universe
having, wanting, needing
total control of me