i fear every night,
that the memory of you,
would enter my room
and sit beside my sleeping form.

except that i can't be able to move,
numb as you kiss me slowly.
drawing breath from my lungs,
i, glued in a helpless position.

and when you're done,
the tears streak my cheeks
at the sight of you
sliding away from me, walking up.

oh- i hate this beautiful nightmare
of having to watch you leave in the end.
but then again, this dream
is the only way to see you again.

and it's truly a shame,
how i could never run after you,
just like in real life,
paralyzed in place.

Everyone always says, that they will always be there for you.

But the truth is, nobody wants to be around someone who is constantly sad.

and that's okay I don't blame them.

I wouldn't want to be around me either.

My little sister had become an entitled *****. Her thirteenth year had brought terror on us all. I can't really complain, however; I had been the same way at thirteen and fourteen. It's funny how I act like I'm so much older and more mature now. At almost fourteen, I was having *** and sneaking around and I'm still doing that. However, I was in the god-awful scene phase of my life, not that we haven't all been there with the clip-in colorful extensions and the emo band tees. My sister is in the slutty Hollister model phase of her life. I feel like we all go through on or the other, or if you're lucky enough you go through both. My body type was always bustier and hippier than any Abercrombie model that I had ever seen.

My dad and I had always **** heads. It flares up when my mom isn't around to be the peacemaker. Even when she is home, we still argue frequently, and we take a lot of low blows at each other. Yet he also expects me to be perfect. He's always been on my case about my weight, my friends, my clothes, my hair, my personality...I can barely breathe around him.  Nothing I do is good enough for him and frankly, I've stopped trying to please him.

And me? Well, I'm just the black sheep, the dark horse, the family **** up. The **** up who isn't all that smart, in school or in life. The **** up who can't lose weight, and who takes the heat for the fact that majority of her family is overweight. The **** up who gets blamed for confrontation she gets into with her sister. The **** up who can't play sports and is just plain clumsy. The **** up who can carry a pitch, but will never be a star. The **** up who can't cook, dress or act right. The **** up who will never honor her family. The **** up who's always been subpar in every area of life. The **** up who has nothing to offer the world.

It's further than the tip of my tongue,
closer than my fingertips,
deeper than my breath.
It's there,
I can feel it.

I claim to have empathy
But I also know I'm lacking.
I chuckled when you said
You'd marry him
You're in high school, sweetie
And when it didn't work out
I wasn't at all surprised.
When you ******* about your life
My mind was on mine
When you made every small problem
Bigger than it needed to be
My thoughts immediately said
"It could've been worse"
But my mouth didn't dare.
And then you have the gaul to tell me
That I'm being pessimistic and whiney
After all the times I bit my tongue
In front of you?
Sorry honey,
But I can falsify empathy for you.
If it's sympathy you want
Go look elsewhere.

When the thunder collapses like my grandfather's love,
there's no one that can hate me more than I do now.
As the lights begins to stain and drain my eyes,
there's no one that can hate me more than I do now.
Skeletons fell with the sea shells in the air.
I hope I'm falling asleep.
To no longer be here
is to be fair to everyone.

Art gallery in my head,
where the paintings hang above
polaroids and used condoms.
Where it's okay that I'm there:
the picture of a *******.
Where it's okay to love me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to know me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to get close to me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to believe in me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to be me.

In 2003 I was molested.
I want it to be okay to be me.
I detached myself from lullabies
and sorry eyes, only to realize:
I could have been dead in March,
right before the summer glows
and everyone would know
It wasn't okay to be me.

Why did you have to do it
My flesh tastes tainted,
and my eyes are painted
with the disgust of distrust
and the disgust of your lust
that corroded my body
and ate my blood
Am I any good
I want to be good.
I want to be pure.
I want to be more
than what I am.
****
There's acid in my veins
There's ******* acid in my veins
My body ******* shakes
Even when in love, I shake
When I'm safe, I shake
Am I ever safe

God isn't real, and neither am I
I am about as real as the dream I can't even buy
My talent is irrelevant, my past dictates my decisions
My love is the only redeeming quality,
and even that lacks precision.
I want to be perfect. I'm sorry that I apologize for anxiety;
it's not so much that I'm asking for forgiveness,
I just want to hear that there's no need to be sorry,
because it's okay to be me.

Oh. Hey, my eyes are watering; isn't this cool?
We're all having fun. Yippee.

The sun bursts rays, and there are twenty-three different ways
to stay alive inside when I'd rather hide from the sun's naivety
Searching for warmth on the walls with blistered palms,
as I lay in bed, naked. Removed of clothes and hope.
Blood in my mouth, new starters with broken shoelaces on the floor
Dreaming of different places. I said: dreaming of different places.
Cryptic words. In other worlds. In fire, I learned to drown.

A-B-C-D-E-F-G
Reentering the room, drunk.
H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P
Hide behind the bloodied bunk.
Q-R-S-
T-U-V-
W-X-
Y and Z
Now I've learned my lack of harmony,
next time won't you spare me, please.

Roses fall from the ceiling. There's no way I'm feeling.
Detach yourself from this room, this nation, this planet.
"You're too fragile to talk to, Josh." Thank you.
Don't allow yourself to ever be hurt again.
Regain your focus after I count down from ten.

Ten.
Reasons to stay alive.
Nine.
I want to live, I don't want to survive.
Eight.
There's nothing about me that anyone should hate.
Seven.
There's no god, but right now, I can make my own heaven.
Six.
I detached myself from lullabies and sorry eyes only to realize I love you.
Five.
"You're still there, right?" Dial tone silence, followed by fist to wall violence.
Four.
And to know you, is to know everything.
Three.
Adaptation without reclamation I find you in my translation
as hurt yet elation.
Two.
I want to make love in love. I want to die and donate a part of myself;
my backbone, lack thereof.
One.
When I fall asleep my eyes meet yours.

Intermission:

Do you like hurt? Do you like pain? Is a happy poem not your game?
Well, read a poem by Josh Haines and never look at him the same again.
And don't look at yourself the same, because it's okay to be you!
For the price of absolutely nothing, you can look at his words!
Wait, and that's not all! Validate the 'beauty' of his words by
touching that heart and making it red!
Make it as red as the bloodied bunk that stained his back and heels!
Only for the price of absolutely ******* nothing!
Hurry, though! You only have until the end of ******* forever, so act fast!
The number is
1-800-I'M AVOIDING A LAWSUIT LIKE I DO THE PEOPLE IN MY LIFE

2nd.

Hey, do you like your parents?
Yes!
Trick question. Do you looove your parents?
Yes!!
Do you like seeing your grandmother in a wheelchair?
Yes!
Do you like being hurt by the people that you care about the most?
Yes!!
Then grab some popcorn and cola!

End of Intermission.


Trying like you're crying at the end of the film that documents your life
To divide a knife into your skin like it's a sin to feel this way
I just couldn't take it, bones in the corner of the room.
Inside a skeleton's eyes, flowers bloom.
Chicka-yay-no way. You swear? You say:
Ti-ta-time is on my side, but that's not how it feels inside.
An internal measure of the pressure of the world
and it's bound to run out like the sand in my hands
at the precious beach that would **** me if I stepped
into the blue, for me and you.

Let me turn back time to when I first met you.
Don't be afraid.

I remember everything. To never forget, is to realize every lie,
smile at every face, and to remember every goodbye.

I hurt my hands, I need to talk to you on the phone.

My insomnia lives off the thought, that I hurt you.
The room is blurry, and I'm sorry for being cold.
I am warm. I have the sun inside.
I guess I'm just afraid of burning you with it.

The drums pound into rhyme,
Diamond casualties
Rewind, wound, rewound
To scratch the surface
until there's nothing but sound.