By: I Am I Will~

This is the incestuous offspring of victory and defeat;
A million coffee stained napkins,
bearing the aborted fetuses of my imagination.

This is salty cheeks and bloody knuckles;
loss of sleep and lack of focus.
It’s your scent clinging to my pillow,
wearing out its welcome

This is a solitary beam of sunlight,
sneaking like a thief through my curtains,
stealing me from my dreams.
it’s my attempt to sleep lightly,
despite the oppressive weight of your absence

This is ink soaked insecurity;
sharp words and dull excuses,
the juxtaposition of said and meant.

it’s the clarity lost between thought and speech.


This is a stolen kiss from loosely guarded lips;

a borrowed passage,

scribbled in the book where I keep my dreams.

© Robert Lockwood. All rights reserved