Nailbeds become stomping grounds for pearly whites
sitting in class
not worrying if ill pass
eyes to the ground, fingers meeting mouth once again they become
prey to hungry nervous thoughts
an oral fixation, the biting temptation, ripping sensation as my
poor fingers are subject to enhiliation
my enamel becomes weary, eroded, against cuticles these teeth don't stand a chance
gnawing, until it hurts, until I don't hurt, until my nerves go away, but they never do. but my habit never stops. but I can't help it, I say. I could. but it's too hard to stop. its too hard to let
from torturous chomping.
pathetic now, I have nothing left to bite. they ache. but my mouth aches for more.
I can't complain too much, some have worse addictions.