We
the girls
no longer with teeth
Worn down,
crumbling from our mouths.
All the baring takes a toll.
The signs they won’t read
Our tears they won’t see
But our teeth? There’s no choice
but to notice.
The bark
is intense.
The bite?
It used to pierce
through anything,
as if the soft skin of a peach.
Now the bite,
it’s getting worse with
no teeth to tear
through whatever lay in front of us.
To unclench our jaws would be to give up,
but if we don’t,
we’ll be spitting out
Our teeth
one by one.
Until we have nothing left but a mouth
that is only pink and soft
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
My sister and I once created an urban legend in our hometown called the Bedford Beast. We saw a dark figure like a huge dog but the wrong shape. My mom saw it on two separate occasions. To this day we aren’t sure what it was.