I see the snow
covering all
like carpet woven
with a softly yarn
to keep all the memories warm

the sly silence
coats over the sorrow
yet your absence
still bites my soul

I hate you
I hate that I love you
I hate that I would do anything for you
I hate that you don't care that I left you
I hate that you don't miss me as I miss you
I hate that you make me feel that I can never be loved
I hate that you have so much power over me
I hate that I'm the one who left you but I'm the one dying
I hate that you knew how much power you held over me
I hate that you don't want me
I hate that I love the way you make me feel even though you hate me

I think it's been a long time
I think it's been a while
Since the memory and the vibe
The very first time you said hi

I was ready to forget you
But then I saw a photo of you in blue
In the place we used to go
Doing things we used to do

I was afraid to say this
I was terrified to admit that I miss
But now I can't hold myself back
I think I've fallen for you again
But I know it's different this time

I craft my love
From words and dreams,
Forgotten, bygone memories.
And of this life, Real Love knows not.
I am to him a Time Forgot.
He left me picking pieces, changed
He lives in my mind, I lie deranged
Sobbing and writing all over the floor
You left too soon, Love. I need more.
I resurrect you from the dead
And spill my heart to the you in my head.

So I wrote you
But perilously;
For you, in your brilliance,
Unwrite me.

There are memories attached,
With each day, I keep re-living,
Years go by, it does not matter.
There are things I keep feeling,
Your absence does not bother.

I see the marks your feet leave,
You wander but not that farther,
Away from me, here is my plea,
That on days like these i miss,
A piece of myself taken from me.

I am stuck in this lapse of time.

Crackling leaves on the walk home.

French hysterics.
Off the deep end in chasm.
Manic.
Sequence fathom through the room light.
Dreadful.
Sarcastic rummaging through cheek bones as papier-meche.
Quiet.
Rubbing eyes.
Folding Sweatshirt to tunneling tunes that keep you alive long enough.


Garrett Johnson.

i miss the years when i didn’t worry
when i didn’t have to fear
when my body could be trusted
when my mind didn’t twist my words.

all i seem to do these days is tell myself it isn’t real.
and still a part of me thinks “what if”