Carnivorous

When I’m crazy my thinking is chaos. I’m obsessed with my teeth. And I write like this

Embedded in my subterranean jaw is an extra molar.

And it is growing like a tumor barreling its way to the surface of my mouth all because it wants a taste.

I’m worried it will take the wrong tunnel and shoot out of the back of my head, spiraling into the stale air, a rogue molar leaving a loose wound behind my ear.

My skin around the exit gash flapping in the breeze it leaves as it ricochets out into the city.

Droplets of blood flicked onto my collar as the molar finds something better.

I am left toothless, stuck wearing a rotten hole.

Soon after this my meds were upped.

Keeping the crazy at bay is a full time job.