Hurt

Never have I had such a pain within The one masochists dream of When it strikes, lord, does it hurt But in its absence I can't help but anticipate it I clutch my chest and feel 5 small, smooth, pale fingers cup around mine It starts to pull away, deeper and deeper into abysses i didn't know I had Until the hand counts down 5,4,3,2,1 And I can walk without hurt again