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nostalgia feels like a rotting tooth

and it won't come out; no matter how many times i
wiggle and twist
and pull at it

or when my father tells me he's
going to tie a string around it and
slam the door

or my mother threatens to send me to the dentist
its too big of a problem for an ordinary person

im attached to the rot

she is my friend; i watched her grow
and she grew with me too
plus, ive never liked leaving things behind

and i remember-
how? can i remember her if she is nothing
how? will i be able to understand the present and survive the future
without the context of the past

the rot will spread and I will endure it

even so, it hurts
my mouth burns



since i was young i was taught to please,
taught to hold the flames in my gums
and let them burn my flesh
for the sake of others

the words i have eaten rise like flames in my throat,
scorching every bite i take
like it was my fault

the charred teeth make it hard to eat
so i stopped
(it did wonders for my figure)
(at least, that's what they said)

the root of my teeth turns green with rot,
until it's indistinguishable from the bile in the sink
their opinions served to me on a silver platter,
red and pulsing organs matching the scarlet scars
on my wrist and in my mouth

this life was given to me,
this heirloom passed down,
so everyone gets to feel the weight
of wanting to be needed
and needing to be wanted

when the opinions go uneaten
(i'm full on my own)
the heart goes unbeaten
(why should i help you)
the response unsweetened
(you're not helping)
and the meat reacts
(violently)

so the scars are ignored,
the burning mouth and charred teeth unnoticed.


their rotting flesh is painted red
idek what happened here but i like it
Damocles Apr 3
Little laddie was a baddy,
Broke the rules -
Missused daddy's tools
Chucked rocks at fools
Watched as brother rocked a squirrel
Brother socked a loser
But mummy wasn't a soother.

Tooth fairy principled
Knock-Loose discipline
Lost tooth hits the porcelain
Another root dug out
Pick out the weeds
And let the rot grow from trees

Laddie in a playground
Abandoned by the swings,
Inert babbling,
Whistling through the gap
Where his teeth once yapped

Aghast,
A wolf approaches
Jiggling a bag of mummy's teeth.
Sometimes you suffer from some traumas and need to write about it, this one isn't necessarily my story, but it is something I heard about.
I held you close to my heart
While you kept me deep
Within your teeth
Just a small piece about reciprocity.
Valentin Eni Nov 2024
These words
should scream out loud!
They should howl in pain
and weep with tears.

These words should run,
jump,
bend in half,
spit blood,
grind their teeth
and curse!

These words would kick,
grab throats,
bite,
scratch,
pull hair,
and gouge out eyes.

These words would want to curse
and hate.
These words could die
of venom,
only to rise again
and die once more.

These words would go mad...

...if only they could spring to life!
The poem explores words' raw, unbridled potential—what they could achieve if only they had life. It conveys the speaker's frustration and yearning, who sees words as vehicles of emotion and action bound by their inanimate nature.

The theme revolves around expression, emotional intensity, and limitation, portraying words as powerful and helpless.

Each stanza escalates the emotional weight, starting with screaming and weeping, progressing to physical violence, and culminating in madness and resurrection. This crescendo mirrors the speaker’s rising desperation and frustration.

The closing line, "...if only they could spring to life!" is both a ****** and a resolution. It starkly contrasts with the vivid, animated imagery preceding it, emphasizing the static nature of words. Highlights the ultimate limitation of language: no matter how powerful or evocative, it remains inert without human action.
Verlecia F Oct 2024
Where My teeth-is (lyric-kids- crossover )
Hootie hoo

Where you be
could you be hiding
up under my feet

Hootie hoo
Hootie hoo

look-e look-e
are you, playing
hide and seek
walk yourself
back to me

Hootie hoo
Hootie hoo
Hootie hoo

can't find my teeth-is
i need them,
to chew

oh! hell, Boo hoo
i am gonna get you

This is not peak-a-boo
come back to me


here i look up and down
now i look like a clown

and i can't find my teeth-is
anywhere around this town

i look up
i look down

Hootie hoo
Boo hoo

it seems that
the tooth fairy
has lost her freak-en mind

now it time to get her behind


Hootie hoo
Boo hoo

she snapped all of
them, in the front
she is a real nut

Hootie hoo
Boo hoo

with just the roots
left behind

Hootie hoo
Boo hoo


Hootie hoo
Boo hoo


aka: lyricvixen
real life ©
Verlecia F Oct 2024
two = water bottles ( 16oz  size)
(1 cups - water)

★ 1/8 tsp - iodine (or one drop to 3 drops)
★ 1/8 tsp - salt (any)

★ two finger pinch of = borax
☆ (microwave + one Tbsp - water and the borax == 5 sec. stir )

★ two or three - Tbsp = Witch Hazel
★ opt - one drop = neem oil
★  opt - 1 tsp = Isopropyl alcohol

★ Measure cup - to pour in container
★ water bottle or container (old mouthwash bottle)
★ gentley shake
★ let sit overnight

☆ water down in one to two Tbsp + water  with half cup water = use

☆ brush teeth
☆ brush tongue
☆ brush cheeks & gums
☆ gargle
DISCLAIMER: THE POEM DOES NOT PROVIDE MEDICAL ADVICE AND IS FOR INFORMATION PURPOSES ONLY. IT IS NOT INTENDED TO BE A SUBSTITUTE FOR PROFESSIONAL MEDICAL ADVICE OR TREATMENT. Google info.
this is for me NOT YOU

DISCLAIMER: THE POEM DOES NOT PROVIDE MEDICAL ADVICE AND IS FOR INFORMATION PURPOSES ONLY. IT IS NOT INTENDED TO BE A SUBSTITUTE FOR PROFESSIONAL MEDICAL ADVICE OR TREATMENT. © Jun '22  

(add: 10/19/2024)
Bhavani Sep 2024
pre-extraction nerves
found a seat to ground myself
anxiety spiked
They ask me, why the teeth?
I smile and just stare back at them with amused eyes
Golden ambers, raging like fire that aren’t so weak

Their legs shift awkwardly side to side
Questioning glances pin at my little open box
Little bits of white fossils shine with rusted blood that has long dried

Sharp ridges of the alabaster’s ends have worn out completely
So much denial, error, and mistakes
So many years of biting, proving, and screaming

I’m no silly child leaving my precious treasures behind
Under soft white feathered pillows
These sharp tips were made to cut anything under great pressure with pride

And without teeth I wouldn’t be me
The older I have gotten, the more tremendous the wear
I still stare at all of you cackling from underneath the sheets
Written when I was 19 years old for a college assignment in 2015.
No lie, I was cramming this the morning of my class and had to think fast and thus came this poem.
Ryan R Latini Aug 2024
I never liked Jonathan until
I punched him
And stole his tooth.
I got a dollar
From the Tooth Fairy.
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