My teeth were never pearly. But slowly, but surely
they've been fading, yellowing. In my mind I've been
mellowing. But on the outside I'm cracking, as if I've
had a whacking. But maybe I have in my head, 'cause
now I'm wishing that I'm dead. With my teeth all
rotten, as if I've forgotten to stand up, walk to the
sink. It's just too hard to think. To with my hand,
grab the brush. But there's no need to rush. Except
now there is reason 'cause the pain's done more than
ease in. It's taking control and it seems to be on a roll.
My teeth start to chatter, crash together and shatter,
'til they're all on the floor. But the pain's begging for
more. It's not enough to deface me. It needs to erase
me. Pressure runs down my spine. No more can I
weather. Hurting me's fine, but killing me's better.