You electrify me, you terrify me, you invigorate me, you slowly drain me; All of my practical thoughts, you replace them with your philisophical quotes; It scares me the way you can read me, but what petrifys me is the way I can still read you; You will never admit it and neither will I, I don't want to make sense of it and you won't even try; What good is it to leave us an incomplete sentence? What good is a muse without a poet?