Worth Words

And the words infect my blood
Like an illness I'd love to die from
Buk had said, allegedly,
"Find what you love and let it kill you" 
It sounds like him, and I believe it. 
If the words can take me, 
Like bullets,
Let them. 
They already do.
Something's gotta kill you. 

Infected by the beautiful disease of poetry, 
If you must ask why, you are immune.