I don’t feel my teeth.
No, not my teeth. I can't feel them. They can't be mine.
They keep coming out by the dozens, clogging my throat and nose.
I keep digging them out with the pliers. Ripping them out one by one. There's blood, a lot of blood. I've removed so many.
But I don’t feel them. They aren't mine. But then whose are they? Who else's could they be?
No! No no no no!! They aren't mine! I swear!
I pulled all of mine out but they’re still everywhere, oh God they’re not mine! They’re not mine!
They can't be mine!!
They're pushing out from underneath my fingernails and I can't get rid of them fast enough.
Oh God they're coming out of my eye sockets now, I- God damn it I can't see!
I can feel them under my skin, coming out of my pores. Have to work fast. Have to get my teeth out quick-
Damn it, no! They're not my teeth!
Not mine. Not mine. Not mine.
Can't think like that. They're not mine. I can't feel them.
Shit! I can't close my mouth anymore. Can barely get the pliers in there now. Shit shit shit shit shit!
Have to keep my joints clear. Have to be able to move, have to keep tearing them out.
They're growing out too fast. I can't keep up. I can't-
Damn it! My fingers!
Oh God no.
I can feel them now.
I can feel them and I can't feel anything else.