renewing the confidence in my teeth

Do teeth hold the memories of words?
and if so,
Do faulty word decisions spawn cavity graveyards?
Does the enamel wear well when washed with weathered words?
or does it flake off... like Gumbo-limbo bark?

Food I suppose must mingle as well
to sew the patchwork collage of nostalgic quilts
in which we wrap ourselves with
during winter's wicked fits,
or leave collecting dust in the tomb of our pits.

Well then what of crowns?
And tell me, what of the fillings?
Should I fear a loss of muse born poems
at first hiss of the drill bit?
And since the bold roast fuels long hours of inspired verse,
is whitening the most frightening thought short of a sudden fist?
No wonder the old suffer Alzheimer's kiss
in between the gum and dentures
still sits enough space to slip
despite the pliant grip.
And when we delicately floss
to disengage the detritus
are we saved
from the lies read out loud in disguise?
Are we tending the fields, while we're bleeding to heal,
and do dreams of losing teeth herald
lexiconic decay?

I haven't had confidence in my teeth for years,
maybe that's why I'm so afraid to speak out, or out loud.
(Or why when I do, eyes roll and smiles fold.)
But if I chew hard, or bite down instead of tear
will my words aid the way my thoughts are often indigested?