Teeth

These teeth have grown to incise,
For what other purpose have they?
But it is your voice that is fanged,
Gnawing at my own existence.
Like a lioness plays with prey.

Chewing on my sanity like the bored do with gum.
Ironic, that teeth hang from the gums themselves.
A full circle in which more teeth gather 'round,
And crunch on what once was.

Life couldn't be much more than a mouth,
Death being the swallow of you. The food.
New life comes, and new death follows.
Must everything be consumed?!

Why, of course! How else would you survive?