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el Jan 2021
and my fingers itch with want to just touch, just a small tap. i want.

and i say something ugly and you crinkle your nose in distaste and my heart skips a beat because that, that's what i want.

you grin, ugly and mangled-

liar.

i think you’re pretty. i think you’re the moon and the stars and i want to kiss your breath away but i cant.

let's go home, i say.
another excerpt
Unpolished Ink Dec 2020
Winters bite

has teeth of ice and steel

polished sharp when chill winds blow

burnished white by gently drifting snow
Bluebird Dec 2020
We're chasing each other around the tree.
The fox and me.
Always just shy of catching the other. Sharpening our teeth on the air we each leave behind. You took the tip off my tail. And I ripped the hair out of yours.
You're the reason my hairs turned white. It's the stress. And something else, something deeper, more profound. Something that gets me out of bed in the morning, but forgets to put me back to sleep in the evening.
We've been running for weeks now. And we can't stop.
I'm just waiting to see who drops first.
I think it's going to be me.
Doing an inktober sorta thing but for december:D
Terra Levez Nov 2020
Does anyone see?
The grimace on my face
The showing of my teeth
In attempt to replicate the look
On everyone else's face

So wait
Is my replication faulty...
....or is it the way everyone else is too?
so is everyone faking happy?
can we just stop, it hurts my cheeks
annh Nov 2020
Let October’s fool fall
With the autumn dusk;
A cornfield tatterdemalion
With terrible teeth
And broomstick hands.
High on the hill,
Encircled by dancing children
And harvest lovers,
Jack’s pumpkin blazes
As yellow as prairie gold
Under the ghostly lantern moon.

A belated Halloween experiment - partially reconstituted poetry. More dilute and less tasty than its CS inspiration. ;)

‘I spot the hills
With yellow ***** in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny gold clusters
And I am called pumpkins.
On the last of October
When dusk is fallen
Children join hands
And circle round me
Singing ghost songs
And love to the harvest moon;
I am a jack-o'-lantern
With terrible teeth
And the children know
I am fooling.’
- Carl Sandburg, Theme in Yellow
if.
you.
ever.
touch.
me.
again.
i.
will.
rip.
off.
your.
*****.
with.
my.
TEETH
the things i can do with my teeth
Rhea Oct 2020
Some like to journal on paper
Some scribe into their skin
But my testament hides
Behind guarded lips
Primal etches in a cavern

My mouth the masterpiece
Of misfortune’s skilled eye
The colors there bewilder
Red, black, green, purple, blue
A rainbow amidst the dark

A master of media
Poverty often crafts
The most intricate of spoils
Among the discarded class
Our mouths a showcase of toil

Charcoal smears the tops of my teeth
Red paint adorns my gums
Abstract strokes of white in front
Deep purple patches peek in back
The one hurting is mystic green

But when throbs wake my sleep
Ripe stench repels my taste
And pills hold no respite
I know a piece has rotted
And my collection must shorten

Emergency receives me
Teeth matching their coats
I share my exotic tapestry
Its realism, pain—my story
They cannot appreciate

And I lose one by one
The slow craftsmanship
Of life’s daily brushstrokes
With no compensation
And a receipt of crushing dues

A hundred years from today
Excavators will unearth history
They will decode messages left
In script, skin, and scraps
Piecing together our lives

I tour my dwindling sculptures
And wonder what will be left
When I am a studied remnant
How will they share my tale
Of slow anguish without glory
After a day on ER
monique ezeh Oct 2020
So this is what pain feels like:
A rotting in the center of your tooth.
You don’t want to touch it (that’s where the real pain starts),
So you leave it.
And a dull ache becomes a sharp one;
Decay on the inside becomes decay on the outside.

And then your tooth is black.

It hurts more than you’ve ever felt
When the dentist takes his drill to your tooth.
It somehow hurts even worse
When he tells you that he can’t salvage it.
        You can’t turn decay into strength, he says.
        You can’t bring death back to life, he says.

Now, there’s an empty space where a tooth once was.
You run your tongue over it, mindlessly, daily—
In a few weeks, the raw flesh becomes toughened, smooth—
It’s like nothing was ever there.
No tooth. No decay. No death.
But you still remember.

You still feel the ache.
Idklove Oct 2020
Her
Having you in my arms 
Alongside marlboro lights on my lips
Under the moonlight
You looks like an angel 
Without wings on your back
Anyway you look more beautiful
When you smile along with your tongue
Between teeth
the unbearable fear!
our white washed reality's
thin veneer
is pealing away
revealing the bloated
rotting carcass underneath
spewing dense shadows
& gnashing it's teeth
wailing helplessly the Word

the Word that man
has uttered throughout the ages
on various stages
& through the oppressing bars
of desolate cages

the very Word  
that brought us forth from the dark
now haunts our dreams
only passing our lips
through midnight screams

with a jolt
we bolt upright
out of our narcosis
paralyzed by fear
how did we get here?
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