Last

Kickball

I was always picked last

My shorts were too short

Inching up my inner thighs

I’d outgrown the pink tank top

And my belly hung like the moon

Captains took turns picking

I wasn’t selected

Alone as a Statuary

Eyes somber

The girls branded as the clique

Mocked me

Awkward, embarrassed

As if my clothes had fallen off

Being last was not a pick

But a forced entry

My teammates taunt

The tears, I swallow

Lip tight

Courage thrives in adversity