Teeth
They are teeth
Jutting up
From the gaping maw of life
Watch them grow
Some crooked
These are the ones we say need fixing
But his family
Could never afford braces
Could never find the time to corral his mustang mouth
The very same mouth
That destroyed my confidence
Only to build it back up again
The thing I miss most
Is not his face
I don't crave his eyes
I don't want his hands
But his lips
Are so sinful
I have to drink holy water
Before I can talk to my mother
He always hated his smile
Always thought it was crooked
And I beginning to think
That maybe
He's right
//HOLY CHEESEBALLS ONE THOUSAND READS IM GONNA CRY!!!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO SO SO SO SO MUCH!! I will now take any and all submissions from any person who leaves me a prompt. If you comment it on this poem, I'll write it. No questions asked. Have a beautiful rest of your weekend, and big love from the happiest poet currently in existence. *squeals*//
