Noël Coward

I am no good at love I betray it with little sins For I feel the misery of the end In the moment that it begins And the bitterness of the last goodbye Is the bitterness that wins.

— Noël Coward

. . . the body remains in a vacuum Gagged, bound, and sick with dread Knowing the words that can't be spoken Searching for words that must be said Dumb, inarticulate, heartbroken.

— Noël Coward