my tongue crawls back to the gap where my tooth fell out; passing by the rigid brace permanently fixed to the back of my incisors.
tracing stuffed bedrows stained by Lagans of tea, skipping the entrance, afraid of the sea
change that takes place - when you linger too long, or the sharp, shooting pain when probing goes wrong.
i avoided the dentist (with her microscope stare) and chose to dress it with other (important) affairs.
my best friend got me drunk and tried to **** me... he made me feel so small and scared. i can still taste his tongue inside me, and feel his stubble scratching my face. i don't revisit that night very often because it's two years later and i still would rather ignore it ahah