Sleep is a weary lover,
circling me
as I lie in bed,
unsure if it is worth
embracing me,
knowing how so many
of my previous loves
have been left
with a bitter taste
on their tongues
after a night or two
of my attention.
I beg sleep to come,
as it has not come
in something close to a week,
feeling a silent madness
tugging at my brain,
its familiarity almost affection,
but sleep continues circling me,
waiting for me
to convince it
the only wounds inflicted
this night and any night
or day to come
will be solely upon myself.
Edward Lee's poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen, Black Coffee Review, The Blue Nib and Poetry Wales. His poetry collections are Playing Poohsticks On Ha’Penny Bridge, The Madness Of Qwerty, A Foetal Heart and Bones Speaking With Hard Tongues.
He also makes musical noise under the names Ayahuasca Collective, Orson Carroll, Lego Figures Fighting, and Pale Blond Boy.
His blog/website can be found at https://edwardmlee.wordpress.com