From the bottom of my heart

the dentist

Bright lights glaring
At me, they prod, they poke,
Provoking all my senses.
I taste the sweet yet salty
And slightly metallic
Drug they use.
There is a sudden
Epiphany of sorts:
We only realise our mistakes
When we feel pain
With every prod, poke
I remember
Everything wrong, and
Everything right.
I turned a deaf ear to everything.