My mouth-guard used to fit before my jaw fractured.
I remind myself of poor decisions and great decisions
without it. My memory begins with a seventh time
brushing on the day. My old strokes make no sense,
my toothbrush crossing from upper to lower instead
of crossing the tops and bottoms the way they should.
I am okay with that. I am okay with this. The new
world to live in. Leave it all behind to spite
the new way biting into anything brand new to me.
Three millimeters off. Impossible to correct. Years
ahead before they wear down to an even set. Okay
is the best that will be done. The best that can be
until we can forget. The new new. The new you.
