Small, but hungry
Restlessly growing, desperate to expand outwards
Desperate to burst through the tissue that nurtured you,
As if you’re trying to escape your own body
As if you’re trying to run away from yourself.
Trapped in consumption, blinded by your own glycemic shock,
You continue until there is nothing left to eat,
Nothing left to burn
Nothing left to kill.
Eating your way through the Earth, like a wood beetle.
Boring holes, feeding on the blood of trees
Unable to stop yourself
Unable to see yourself
Because you have no eyes anymore
.
.
to be continued…(or not)
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George Tsakraklides 