I rip out my teeth but they come back, spit on the ground with ichor black.i can feel jaws clamped on my chest, soon they'll be going for the throat. Perhaps I'll choke on my own lies, perhaps my cancer will metastasize. I've always been my own worst enemy, chemicals to try to kill me, I can hardly breathe. Its a gnashing of teeth. My heart's fallen into my stomach and the acid will eat it up. I'll be dead before the morning with any luck.