Relics

I carry summer scar tissue
at the juncture between my jaw
and the slope of my skull
tight and strained.
It aches in the middle of the night
as my teeth try to sharpen themselves
grinding to a point.
It would be nice to be able to bite back
but snapping at shadows is a waste of time.
To smile is a strain
and I suspect the white filaments
of reknit skin stretch along
the whole of my body
sitting under my skin to tighten
at odd texts and a room that's the wrong kind of quiet.
I don't like to be alone for long
because my brain keeps working to reconnect
these wires that fried themselves out
with week after week of electric fright.
How many times do you press a bruise
before the stain spreads?