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Angharad Oct 2019
If sorry was enough my you, I would scream it everyday
For you I would say any words if they could take the pain away
If sorry was enough my you, I would scratch it on my skin
For you the cuts run deeper then the guilt I'm drowning in
If sorry was enough my love, I would have told you from the start
But sorry will never be enough to fix your broken heart
For you
Angharad Apr 2019
I'm hidden come and find me
Naked in the dark that's where I'll be
Suffocated amongst the bed sheets of our emotions
Reality blanketed by lusts deep oceans
Trapped in this bed for a time that is lost
Strangled by our wires that seem to be crossed
  Jan 2019 Angharad
Of all the things a man can say,
the worst is i forgot.
for it is the doom of men that they forget,
and of women they do not.
  Aug 2018 Angharad
We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.
Inspired by the Vanity Fair article of André Aciman's reaction to his book *Call Me By Your Name* being made into a movie. Specifically the quote, "I couldn't write silence."
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