Friday, January 22

Wrote it awhile ago

Her tongue rolled around in her mouth, sliding against her need to be brushed teeth, tasting the plaque and bitter sweet drinks from a few hours earlier. Secrets and plans are stained to her teeth. No matter how much she thrusts her brush against them, they can not be washed, swallowed or spat away. The taste is vile and regretful, but still her mouth stays closed. No matter the force; her lips are sealed.

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