Toothache (Your Lost God)

I’m taking the best bite out of your life,
screams the dirty little tooth.

The myth that either the heart or brain
is paramount keeps the tooth amused

with its throne hidden in plain sight.  The tooth
kings itself on your nerve endings

and leaps into the red square.  You fall
wincing into the black.  I’m taking a bite

out of your life, screams the sharp little tooth
as it sticks you a second time.  The old story:

you’d give up a small fortune for relief
from that broken bastard.  It’s no game

to go a-hopping in pain around the board
in thrall to the little king.  I’m a bite

of your living, screams the shard of a tooth
one last time before you yank and toss it.

It leaves a raw hole.  Game over?  But you can’t keep
your tongue out of the space.

I still rule you, calls the missing tooth
from afar.