toothpaste tube

squishing the last ounces of my toothpaste
on my worn out old toothbrush
your smile softly fades in the reflection
my hands are your hands
and they touch my face for the first time
i see your glimpse under the helmet of a blanket
and it shines through me
you know every word ever spoken from my mouth
know every square centimeter of my body like the back of your hand
didn’t have to look quiet far, it lays on your toothbrush while i’m hiding in the bathroom
фand i want you, your soul to eat me up
but i’m frightened to show it to you
like a cat warming up in the wheels of a truck
slowly decomposing, with the gray mass growing in size
telling lies i start to believe
hiding eyes when i’m free from the cuffs
every hair bugging me with its human disguise
days, i just count them in groups of five
and i’ve lost any sense of time i maybe had
back in those days i used to play on a trumpet and smile
and the toothpaste tube is the only remnant of objective truth
it’s my bible and i read it before i sleep
so i wake up a day older and a little more wise