Do not you know how it feels to be caught in the midst Of a passion that will not subside?
I know that, to you, I look well and alive, But can not you see there is no light in my eyes? Can not you hear the sadness spilling from my voice, As though there is a river threaded through my throat?
Either talk to me when you're wide-awake, Or don’t talk to me at all; For every word you speak brings blood from the wounds That you so unconsciously invoked.
I know now why love is sent by Cupid’s golden arrow; It’s because we are struck not once, twice, or thrice, but a million times,
And each arrow sinks deeper into our bodies than before.