By Ceinwen E. Cariad Haydon
A hard call: a blind, reckless need to connect. We don’t hear each other, play hide and seek with words. Our emotions churn, scared to miss, scared to find. We prick ourselves on each other’s thorns, perpetuate points of pain. Why do we return, bruised and bleeding, the hopeless seeking healing? Years ago, my choices thieved hers. I see me, through her eyes, in dreams. In daylight, shadows cast by me remain. When I die, she’ll want to call at midnight. I hope she’ll know I’ll be close by, fold her in my love, able to say sorry at last.
Ceinwen lives in Newcastle upon Tyne, UK, and has an MA in Creative Writing [Newcastle 2017]. “I write because I can’t stop,” she says. “I came to it late and cannot waste any more time. I believe everyone’s voice counts.”