Brushing

Circling and scraping. Bristly and comforting. When I brush my teeth. It’s never that bad. But getting out of bed is the hard part. I find myself wishing someone would bring me my toothbrush. I could brush my teeth in my sleep. Instead, I’m lonely. I’m late so I spring out of bed, suddenly. Circling the room, anxiously. The carpet scraping my feet. Fearful that my toothbrush will somehow hurt me. I have to leave soon. I don’t have time to brush, so I cry instead. I daydream all day, About going home to brush my teeth over and over… Alone, brushing my teeth. Until everything is clean and fresh. But when I get home, it’s never like that. I’m tired so I brush my teeth meekly and hopelessly. Circling and scraping. Bristly and comforting. I don’t really brush my teeth enough these days.