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.
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