That time we walked around for no reason.

Talking.
Outer.
Wooden door.
Brain rush.
Molecule.
Closing eyes.
What's her name.
**** I forgot her name.


Garrett Johnson.

Naturally walked.

Even the alacrity in the spots.
Stars the undoing of nervous endeavors.
And pines made of thought thrown asunder.
The globes.
Softly speaking.
And smile fragile.
Then gone.
The spiral orb.
She waits.
In arms.
Tended to in black.
Asked in gloom.
Pillaging mind wasting.
And rest.
In a frantic sooth.


Garrett Johnson

Confused in Estes.

Slipping low.
How it felt.
Didn't know.
You're still warm.




Garrett Johnson.

Like Paper cuts do.

I guess I wanted to know.
But I knew.
How so.
I mean...I guess that's how I always felt.
About those eyes.
Peering from across the room.



Garrett Johnson.

Perpetual Evening.

Car door.
Street light.
Your Lips.
Never felt better.



GarretT JohnsoN

The Fall.

Trees out my window.
So barren and chipper.
As if I could almost taste the death.
Taste their eyes on my person.
Their wraithing edges.
Their aging systems welcoming like *****.
Splatters.
Across all fronts.
To conjure the oh so sweet milk of air.
The dusty platitude of forgiveness.
Sight the faces so smug.
So lucrative.
So tiny.
As the weaving sits bined.
And the yellowness unwindes.
Trees out my window stand gladly.


Garrett Johnson.

Process in weariness.

Peanut butter and jelly.
Ice and drool.
Duck tape my eyes.
Alex, yeah she's cool.
Always alone like Constantine.
Ol Johnny boy.
I think I'm gone.
And very annoyed
I didn't think I would leave.
I didn't think so.
I didn't know how to complete.
My rowing team...Oh.


Garrett Johnson.