For almost 2 days, now, I have been wondering what has been going on.

I can't upvote and comment on poems, and most poems that I see posted have no view counts.

By now one would have hoped that the fallen would gotten back on their feet.

I just wish there was a voice out there, somewhere, instead of speculating.

Logan Robertson

6/02/20

someone take my breath away

with love
not hate

I don't want to go
to heaven.
I just want to see
the sunset
reflect in your eyes
one last time.

When we chance
upon each other
years later,
you will ask me

          do you still write?

and I will answer

           of course I do.

you took my heart
with you when you left,
not my hands.

i love when it rains
in waning moonlight,
spending time
with you in bed;
tight hugs,
purple kisses,
legs apart—
getting wet

How could he not taste the goodbye
In her kiss,
He thinks
As the street lights splinter
Into prisms through
His tears

He touches his lips,
But the ghost of her
Is already fading.

It's time for a name
Not to be just another 'name'

To anyone who lost a life
You didn't die in vain

Colour doesn't matter
Inside we're all the same

It's time to stop the suffering
It's time to stop the pain

I stopped writing

For awhile.

Because I found that when I write
It’s so real.
It’s like hearing back my own words from the lips of someone wiser

Not from a broken child,
But from a bitter miser.

when people ask,
they don’t really want to know.
they just want you to tell them,
what they already think.

Two men on the road.

One white
The other black

One with the Bible
The other with the Qur'an

Why is it important?

After all they are seeking the same.

i don't understand it
but i can tell it's beautiful

just a foolish girl
letting nostalgia
fill her heart
and leave her aching
for a love
that never existed.

The only way I can cherish you is by remembering you as my freedom.

I used to have interaction on here but for the past 6 months my account has had zero.
No one is seeing my writing. Please help

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

There are two sides to a coin, and mine is always in the air

By fear
Or by grace
I felt my feelings
Destroying themselves
Turning into ashes
In just a couple of flashes

he said he couldn’t breathe,
so they took his last breath

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

I am a musician
And a poet
And an artist.

I have the ear
And the mind
And the eye.

Which has qualified me to say,
Your heart and mind and physical design
Are beautiful in every way.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

i'm going to let this stretch
slowly
dangerously

and hope
that when it breaks
and snaps

the pain
won't be too much

If my mind lingers on the memory
of how it felt to look into your eyes
I fear that I may never want to look upon
anything else
I might insult the splendor
of my mind's vision
Of true and perfect love,
Symmetrical and pure.

And over time,
My pen stopped bleeding
But my heart didn't

Death would not stop
coming on the dirt road
of undanced goddess.

God of sins waits.
Light refuses to enter
the eyes looking at sky.

The beehive spills
to make you human of
vanishing tribe.

like water
I poured myself into her until she was overflowing at the brim

like reinforced steel
I bridged my heart to hers and welded myself to her soul

like the sun
I filled myself with light to cover her darkness

like a blanket
I shielded her from the harsh world underneath the covers

like magnets
I orbited her aura until we inevitably collided

like a seed
I felt myself growing up from her

Then, like an idiot
I could tell she felt nothing.

I slept with​ the moon smiling at me
    I dreamed of you.
But not all dreams come true,
    Because sometimes,
          We die in our dreams.

you are as pretty as a star,
but unfortunately,
just like that celestial body,
you’re also a million miles away.

I hate knees
Knees hurt on the way down
the stairs to breakfast.
Knees hurt on impact
when I pray in earnest.
Knees transmit pain
signals to my brain relentless.
I hate knees.

I just want it to end.

The hopelessness, the fear,
the constant critic in my head:
I've lived with them all for too long.

All I've ever known is this war, this endless battle.
There's nothing wrong with wanting it to end.
To wish that it didn't is cruel.

But why can't the best solution be the simplest?
Why do I have to keep fighting?

At times it's deafening,
and I'm so exhausted.

Why can't I just lay down in no man's land
and let this battle fall silent around me?

Why can't that be the end?

Because... I'll never know what's possible.

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.