This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at MSU chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.
I hate going to the dentist.
They ask too many questions then roll their eyes when I answer;
Dusty red fingertips, orange stained tongues,
fluorescent wrappers colored my childhood.
Â
Crinkling bags my dinner bell,
lemon cookies and everfresh our meal,
My place was always set in mama’s bed.
Â
The Kool-Aid colored smiles
Shared between the two of us Â
Rotted my teeth but nurtured our bond
Our laughs like vanilla on my aching teethÂ
Â
Not much else matteredÂ
When the ingredient list was the recipe to easy Saturday mornings.