it strikes from within,
eats the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the
timing has to be perfect,
the schedules
thought out
have i given you enough to feed on
am i feeding myself
what food. what food is love.
sweet, too strong, biting my hand, parching my throat
it took my legs it took my hands it
forbade me from walking
spicy, too soft, caressing me, lifting me up
I'll float instead, I'll swim instead,
forced my adapting
love eats away at me,
i want more of it,
and then
I'll leave. I'll always want to. I always do. I will have to.

you want it too much,
i cannot feed you.