Giggle

Giggle

Giggle.

Pulling of tiny teeth,

shiny and silver-capped,

brings about spurts of blood.

Leaking in long pink rivets,

waterfalling over the corners

of my lips.

I smile,

a dripping ruby-smeared smile.

My drug-addled mind

left fearless,

doubtless.

I keep laughing:

Giggle.

My dad grimaces.

His chocolate truffles for orbs,

always staying on my matching macaroons.

His melanin-rich muscles,

barely developed,

tense tightly.

A beat passes,

in silence,

I stick out my pink tongue.

Wiggling it,

through a crimson toothless gap.

My pink worm of a muscle squelches,

loudly.

I cringe at the noise,

but still,

my grin doesn't fade.

Giggle.