Forced Open

That light, a white sun, in my eyes,

the taste of mint and fear.

A voice, too calm, that never lies,

"Open wide," for all to hear.

My jaw, a hinge, a yielding gate,

my tongue pushed to the side.

Surrender to this sterile fate,

with nothing left to hide.

The hum of drills, a metal pick,

a scrape, a chilling sound.

So much of me feels raw and sick,

upon this sterile ground.

And when they're done, the phantom ache,

the rubber ghost still there.

That quiet violence, for goodness sake,

a vulnerability I can't bear.