sweet torture, it's like
poetry but you're bawling your eyes out
and for a moment without a doubt
you're losing your mind
indescribable high pressure
who knew it came with inexplicable pleasure?
all at the moment you look into his eye
and that's a moment of algolagnic high
so you write, and you write, your fingers weak
and you try, yeah you try, till your body's bleak
open your mouth at the stage every week
and never say i love you, you never say i love you
we're poets, we're deemed to die the cruelest death
singing songs, drawing art as much as our body let
we're literature whores, we go back to where we met
our legs sore, bitter but blasted words from our ink set