These chains that bind me are not of metal nor silk.
They have been forged by my own hand. My own heart.
I know I should go and yet I cannot move.
Why is it that the more cruel he behaves the more I fold myself into him? Why is it that one sharp word from his lips can send me into the darkest of places? And yet every word from my own lips is of love.
There is most certainly betrayal here. But is it his betrayal or mine? And who is being betrayed? Does he betray me or do I betray myself?
Thank you Catullus for seeing the truth in contradictions.
I HATE and I love. Why I do so, perhaps you ask.
I know not, but I feel it, and I am in torment.
~~Gaius Valerius Catullus
I knew a ferryman before.
But he was not so old as you.
He spoke from unembittered lips,
With careless eyes on the bright sea
One day, such bitter words to me
As age and wisdom never knew.
Sappho Crosses the Dark River into Hades
~~Edna St. Vincent Millay