hakunanatasha
I had that dream again last night. My teeth were made of old wood. Not the kind for in someone's manicured yard, but the kind you find molded in a damp forrest. I was pulling them out one by one. The small lower teeth came first, ripping with blood and nerve endings stretching past my lips. I stood in front of the foggy mirror with its Hollywood lights and watched my face contort in anger and confusion. I had no idea where my teeth went, or when the splintering replacements came in. Tears streamed down my bloated pink face because I was angry at myself for prolonging the pain, but I just wanted these foreign cubes out.
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teethfacedreamnightwoodsomeone'smanicuredyardmoldeddampforrestpullinglowerrippingbloodnerve