canibalism

Love is a cannibal
waiting to be fed
the remainings of all
(past, present and future)
lives.

Crunching scattered pieces,
Time is its unctuous feast.

It eats time,
time and attention,
minor details
and the big picture.

Looking out the window
I feel it eating inside me
inside my head: all thoughts
inside my stomach: the insects
inside my soul: every feeling.

Things happen outside
and I am trapped inside
blind to the outer world,
concentrated,
tormented
within myself,
my own shelf where it stands,
reigning.

Love cannibalizes my life.