Breadcrumb #570
MADELEINE MULDER
I fear my mother would love me more if I had straight teeth— (but I do not)
So that I could smile wide like a chipper horse
Perhaps she wishes someone had put me under (sweet anesthesia)
So that I might wake with men over my face
Plying me open with latex gloves (singing hymns)
Wrestling in my mouth for power
As they place metal between my candy cavities (to fix me)
But I am a crooked girl
With decaying teeth and no smile (oh no)
An imposter of a human
Mad for straightness (ha!)
But falling ten teeth short every time
So tell me mother dear: (do not)
How can I rectify?
And what of my contorted heart—
Will you straighten it with metal too?