I know it’s wrong
But you just feel so right

You get me
But maybe that also means
You know just where
It hurts the most
And so you keep stabbing at it

What the fork is going on
We argue all knife long
The table settings a froze
What the fork is going on
Can't we at least spoon
A ladle here, a ladle there
What the fork is going on
We argue all knife long

Logan Robertson

11/30/2018

as long as a writer is in love with you
you can never truly die

every word they write on paper
will have the whispers from your mouth
and as long as the sounds of the scratching
pencils & the click-clack of keyboards
fill the air
it will follow with the echo of your footsteps
and every line, poem and book
unwritten or unheard of
will have your name written all over it

so fall in love with a writer
because than you'll never truly die

Is your humility a crown or a carpet

Two boys on
the bridge,

each, the other,
his;

they gaze across
the bay—

they could be there
one day.

you look for threats that don't happen
when the danger comes from
what are you afraid of

I am in a forest full of traps
you are talking about the view
what are you talking about

we are on land covered with mines
you don't believe it before someone blows
what do you think of death

to me,
you are
an art

                              to you,
                              I was
                              a tragedy