Writing song titles on your hand.

Misery.
Oooh.
Where'd it go.
Right near.
Near your eyes.
Shoelace.
Downer.
And done with.
Because we all know why.


Garrett Johnson.

If it weren't for the pillow.

Unspoken.
Anna.
Total.
Moon gum.
Headache.
Afraid.
Toothpick.
Pick your nails.


Garrett Johnson.

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