The buzz from my electric toothbrush mocks me

Ten years without the dentist

Seeing the world through yellow-tinted teeth

Peering through the gap between my two front chompers

The chip I created when I was younger and chewing on a butter knife

Clink

Clink

The tongue scraper like sandpaper

Both fascinating and horrific

Tongue-tied mumbling disapproval

White speckled flesh folding together

The lid of my mouthwash looks like a traffic cone

Alerting me to my own self-destruction

“Remember all those cigarettes you smoked in high school?”

I try not to drown as I gargle

30 seconds

If the conditions permit I don’t mind them

But under the truest of light, I see fractures and fragments

Dreams of gummy smiles and corn hues

Wait five minutes before eating, drinking

Two back molars are dying

My smartest teeth tear at the fleshy insides of my cheeks

Icy induced stabbing, in and out, in and out

Climbing into my cavities

It’s dark in here

Floss?

Who?

Rest.

The buzz.