I promise you I’m not worried
About the trials of life

I promise my nightmares
Mean absolutely nothing.
That the vivid visions
Don’t dance in my mind
Or send me painful messages
That haunt my day.

I promise you I’m not worried
When deadly air topples the world,
Closes my recreational parks,
Locks all my favorite restaurants.
I’ll just sit at home like a good boy
And play around with little toys.

I promise it’s all just static,
That the sky can’t weather
what my mind can dream,
That I’m not falling apart,
At the seams microscopically.

My heart has been yanked from its place
The cold fever has turned my head into a fading disgrace
Someday, the bottled ocean shall find its heart's rest place
The paleness shall leave me
The waves will stop moving so much
I just might place the words in those holes to describe peace

If you looked into my eyes and knew how bright they used to be, you knew I died.
As I write my words are dying now with me.
My body doesn't like it when I try to get ready.
Just sitting isn't ok either.

I just eat, fly and sing or sleep if I can.
Cause only then life doesn't feel so bad.
Like being on fire, heavy or drowning.
My body is a bag of potatoes on fire.
I'm so dead, I'm not moving.

Let me just stare in the distance.
And if you looked into my eyes, you'd know I died.
I'm buried inside.
Strangled and tight.
Gone but stuck.

Away from life.
Away from light.
Colours fly around me in my dark room.
I fall to the ground.
I lie there just still.

Arrive to leave

Salem.
Asylum.
For all.
Reaching.
Frantic.
Friday.
Evening.
Someday.
Antisocial.
Nev­er.
Rush.
Flash.
Such.
Wandering.
Navigating.
Endless.
Vibrant chaos.
Crusading.
Blum.
Continuos.
Relinquish.
Embraced.
Distorti­on
Within.
Grasp
Taunting.
Disappeared.
In agony.
Collection.
Mural.
Saga.
Certain of.
Past.
Parasite
Of waves.
Confined.
Seeking.
Redemption.


Garrett Johnson & Eleesha Mayo.

My mind is a minor flutter;
Looping movies within ultimate stutters.
I'd tell you I'm feeling better,
But I am a stick of butter.

I look into gaze of grateful maze,
Only to pop amongst unholy haze.
My mind is beautiful,
But what is the craze?
My ego deserves to jump into my idiot blaze.
I hope this is a phase.

Little do I know that I am an end;
Whether I am today or tomorrow, it depends,
Though it will come soon.
The red blends with my toothpaste.

Looking upon you, through my blue eyes, but I can't lie and say it was unintentional nor did your imagination make me up, Let's never say goodnight nor stop after the virtual sunlight. - Venjencie Clifton Arnold
My dearest Omni, let it be me.