One Gone

There's a dead guy in my mouth.
They told me his prognosis was hopeless
Due to a crack that went all the way down
To the bottom of the root,

They said it was not my fault
That it was not a matter of neglect
That it was just a matter of pressure over time
And it could happen to anyone,

So I let them, gave them the go ahead
I sanctioned the hit
They cut into the tooth laboriously
And eventually extracted the nerve

Which is to say, really
They removed the soul
And this morning it is eerily quiet
Inside my mouth