Oct 15, 66.

One of those nights.
Where the air is slick.
Where everything can be heard from miles away.
Like a tremolo stealthing it’s way around.
From every knock from door.
From every word from lip.
Form every star deciding to die in a super nova.
You know.
Those nights.
Sure I do.
No.
No you don’t.



Garrett Johnson.

I am a shadow.
I go unnoticed.
I am the darkness that everybody chooses to ignore but knows is there.
I am the choice people regret making.
I am the chill that travels up your spine when you feel anxious.
I am what you see in the corner of your eye, but is gone when you look.
I don't actually exist To you.
To any of you.
I'm just a regret.
I'm the bad taste in your mouth.
I am what you hate.
But I am a shadow.
Even when I'm gone.
I'll be lurking behind you.
In the back of your mind.
Reminding you.
Of what happened.