******* hell why’s it so cold
i can’t tell whether the fold
my lips compel kiss the cold
or miss the swell of summers old.

my hands are dead
but moving still—
couldn’t feel lead
if they’d given a pill.

my hair is stiff
but flowing still—
even hands can’t sift
my hair’s bobbing fill.

my eyes are red
but seeing still—
the understated
“i’m not crying by will”.

but despite the dryness of the air
and the coolness of the night
the caress of the wind fairs best
without moments of respite—

even if the crescent moon dares
no pestering like the sun, i quite
get way less aware
my lips already needed a bite.

From within my
Glass house
I keep a pillow
Full of stones
To lay my
Weary head
A chest full of
Bricks
To build my bed
And a cabinet
Full of molotovs
In case I need
A drink

The wayy she smiles.

Sputter out of controlling remorse, taken all of his energy.
Notably chalk.
That waits in his knee.
But then you sneeze.
Mostly realize.
That you've got it all.
And none in a hug that was in the fall.

Garrett Johnson.

Falling in love?
Falling into the well that is love?
Falling free through space until you hit
the bottom of love?
Gasping for air and rubbing your neck
from the weight of the drop?
Climbing the perimeter of the pit
of love, eyeing the top?
And in a place like that,
what is there to do but try
to climb out, see what you’re made of?

the steam of the shower holds your face
like a pillow.

pushing out the smog, clutter in your head
billowing around you and thawing out
the raw thoughts that you try to freeze over.

the endless patter of hot rain that
cleanses, but also
hurts
in that it's one of the only
honest sounds you'll ever hear
(outside of love.)

the moment you step out into the humid, mediated
atmosphere of a cooling room
the water dripping off your arms,
your hair,
your face,
making you anew.

but as everyone does, you wipe the mirror clear
to see your face, and know that despite life,
it's still you.

it changes you, yet proves your you-ness more than anything else.

I'll do my best, as the title suggests.  Right away I'll write away about how my day should not be written off.  Because when I do I'll lose my day because I put it off.  Could I write it rightly?  Or will I write it wrongly?  I'm pretty sure i right wrongly.