Milk Teeth

By Jeahnelle Garcia

I was fourteen

When my last tooth fell out.

The girls at school had lost theirs;

With smiles of pearly white,

Perfect adult teeth.

I was deeply ashamed of my last little milk tooth.

It first came loose as I ate.

I was ecstatic,

Prodding at it with my tongue,

Never minding the pain.

When my best friend found out

She was surprised it had not fallen already.

This comment came

Between gossip over maths homework,

Which steadily continued right after.

That night,

I pried it out of my mouth

Between two fingers.

And the following morning,

My teacher told me I had done the homework poorly.

It would need to be redone.

Too old for the tooth fairy,

And all her whimsy,

I kept the tooth in a matchbox on my bedside table.

Even as the crown of the new tooth grew in,

Scraping the tip of my tongue,

I mourned my last milk tooth.

I could not bring myself to throw it out.

Even now,

I keep it with me

In a little spice jar, on my bedside table-

A perverted shrine of my innocence.

I no longer mourn my last milk tooth.

I mourn the loss of the girl

With a mouth still full of them;

Who was excited when the began to shake;

Who was eager to grow up.

Too eager.

I have lost all my milk teeth.

My mouth is full of cavities

And still, I mourn.