Confessions of a Floss-o-holic

An obsession sprung from getting braces at 24
For some reason, I’d never bothered to floss my teeth before
I never seemed concerned about stuff stuck in those spaces
But all of a sudden that crammed up sensation drove me to distraction  
So I became a floss-o-holic when it was hardest ever to floss
Passing that floppy line between the hardware of each space
Half an hour to floss after each meal meant nothing
Because when you’re 24 you think you’ll live forever
So time is irrelevant when you can’t sleep at night
Feeling the tiniest pressure, like a pebble wedged in tight
It’s the princess and the pea, but you know what’s the problem
And even after those two years of orthodontic torture
I still could never stand to have anything in those gaps
Carried floss in my pocket – still do – everywhere I went
In case I chewed on something that meant a pending flossing 
It’s like murdering somebody and keeping the corpse around
Until a convenient way to dispose of it presents itself fortuitously
You’re not Bryan Cranston so solutions loom a little slower
And although you’ve seen the show you know
Even on Amazon acid barrels don’t come easy
So you’re together with that body until you find the answer
To rid you of it conveniently in some fortuitous manner
Like run around to find a restroom, then bust out the handy floss
Do the deed behind a door in a stall meant for relieving pressure
Because flossing, like murder, has to be done somewhere private
No gawkers to witness the gross extraction process
That gratifying moment of a blockage purged success
So with the spouse gone you move beaming to life’s next stage
With floss in hand because healthy teeth beat murder any day