Writing

They say to smile with my pretty teeth,

But I can’t,

My teeth aren’t pretty,

Nor are my teeth white,

They’re stained with bad choice,

Bad choices I can’t remove no matter how hard I try,

I don’t like to smile,

because every time I smile I’m reminded of the bad choices I’ve made,

All the days I would rot in my bed,

I didn’t brush my teeth,

didn’t shower,

didn’t brush my hair,

didn’t change my clothes,

And all the times id take a cigarette out of that box,

Opening my window trying to hide the sickening smell from my father,

all the vapes i burnt through, 

it was easy to hide the smell, 

Its was perfect,

Finally I was happy,

Until I smiled.

Then I saw all the yellow,

All the nicotine that covered my mouth,

I wanted to stop but I couldn’t,

I relied on the fruity flavor in my mouth for so long its stuck in my veins,

I hated it,

I wanted to throw them away but something holds me back, everytime.