Open Wide

Staring at the ceiling, waiting for the sign,

a flicker of the light, my heart starts to align.

‘Open,’ she says, and suddenly I freeze,

in a chair that feels heavy, held down like a breeze.

The whir of the drill feels like thunder inside,

brushing away secrets, my anxiety hides.

Each sharp scrape a reminder of vulnerabilities raw,

as I fight against fear—oh, this silence, the flaw.

In this sterile world, where truth feels exposed,

the open-mouthed honesty—like a heart’s final prose.

And as I let go, while she peeks past my teeth,

a whisper of judgment hangs heavy beneath.