Waiting,
Blood pressure exponentially increasing,
Walking into the back room,
Sitting in a plastic chair,
Waiting,
The latex gloves and metal rods,
Prodding and probing,
Mouth blood -Ick,
Nasty mint toothpaste,
More scraping and scratching,
Skin crawling,
Blood pressure maxed out,
Breaths quickening,
Thoughts narrowing,
Time slowing,
Metal tools dragging,
Slowly across white teeth,
Reminders to floss more,
Room darkening,
Pulse roaring like thunder,
Waiting for the end,
Gloves come off,
Handed a brush and floss,
Told to come back next week,
I need a filling.

it's weird that Brits say "chips" instead of "french fries",
and it's sad that your dad says "you're hopeless" instead of "I love you".
it's weird that the sun pokes up out of the ground at different times everyday,
and it's sad that it hurts more when you poke your finger than when you run the blade down your skin.
it's weird that the sun still shines when it's 3 degrees outside,
and it's sad that 3 am is filled with thoughts of agony and your pillow is stained with the salt water from your eyes.
it's weird that there's 365 days in a year but it dreads on feeling like 1,000,
and it's sad that the pills that are supposed to make you feel better for your depression only make you want to swallow 365 more to make the pain go away.
it's weird that you're forced to go to school with ignorant teenagers that have no idea what they want in life besides getting high,
and it's sad that those teenagers romanticize self harm and depression like it's beautiful to have demons in your mind eating away your sanity.

In the dark nights
Looking for you
In the orange bottles
In the red rivers
In the crumpled tissues
Never ending tears
I wasnt good enough
I was too much of a mess
To be trusted
To be fixed
To be loved