Meant to be a friend of those of lost
Teeth, collecting all calcium of baby
Moments falling out to the moment
Of growing youth. Now soon to be
Turning from a time of innocence.
But calcium of those pure of heart
Were not adhering to nature, staying
In longer no longer the rush of what
Was. Now a slow season of teeth falling
A fairy of white need her rush.
Forbidden from youth a line not to
Be crossed, but those of aged youth,
Teeth for the picking, an abundant
Supply of the white stuff. a glint in
The eyes of the bleached pegs.
In sleep they purged with sandman
Dust, blooded gums of what was once
A set. Now but a blooded mess, so
Many white taken even the yellow and
Black, crimson bled from every mouth.
Beware her with hunger in her eyes, of
Blooded gums, she craves what fell from
Innocence, but now feeds on any that
Are pure or tainted to get her rush, Sleep
Soundly all, and keep your mouth shut.
i tried to stop your calcium intake so that you would never grow
i wanted you to shrink so that i could keep you in my pocket
and you could gnaw through the fabric and plunge onto my toes.
i would walk you everywhere that i go. you would see all that i see
eventually, you would be so small, you would crawl into my ear
and scratch through my skull.
you could infiltrate my thoughts and penetrate my nervous system.
and then maybe you could feel all that i feel and realise that’s it's you
Of all the cracked sidewalks
The winding maze
Of everyone else's shattered city
He traces calcium caked bones;
Ribbon strips of dyed out dreams
Close your eyes, close your eyes!
Selectively seducing the spires of silence
Romancing the carnage soaked thoughts
Smiling all the while
a ruddy thrush of experience
artifacts your chest
opal sheers of lineage
marred by remains
of precise and careful
additions to a calcium
accented by a
lightning storm quicksilver
coursing across neck
a mark to guide
breaths of life into you
breakfast cereal disintegrates between tooth and cheek like
andean snowflakes do underfoot where I go to get
gone from the day-in-day-out ladybugs on the ceiling
I swallow it for the calcium
it doesn’t taste like much
and they smell when they crash into the mirror
See these marks on my fingers?
They're not from my bark
They're my bite's fight with dinner
These cuts and bruises
Have calcium to blame
And the food my body refuses
The scars on my middle and pointer
Remind me of the acid burn
That made my image so much lovelier
Not for the faint of heart.