I need a friend and now you're gone
You said you'd stay but instead you've run.
I said I was sorry a million times,
Yet to you my sorry is lost in rhythms of rhymes.
It's a continuous cycle of yes and no,
One day you're here and the next day you go.
I can't seem to make you stay no matter what I do,
So maybe I should walk away and make me the one you lose.
You told me to make a choice, decide where you fit,
But I'm the one who has tried to bend and I'm the one whose split.
I don't know what makes you so special and I really don't care,
I just want you to stay but you won't and it seems so unfair.
What did I do but love you the best I could?
Except my love you don't want, to you it's no good.
I'm sorry I'm not your prince, I'm sorry I'm not your lover.
It just ***** those are the only roles you've left for me to uncover.
You know me better than anyone else in this world,
You know my secrets and my fears, you know me completely unfurled.
You told me what you need but now it's my turn,
I've always been told we accept the love we think we deserve.
The love I receive from you has been fickle and sparse,
Not one that will benefit my fragile heart.
It hurts to know that you can easily let go,
Of something I wish you would preciously hold.
Am I disposable, am I a bother to your life?
I'm sorry I try so hard to fit and make everything right.
I need a friend, someone constant and true,
Someone who would love me no matter their mood.
I won't settle anymore, I'm not a toy
That you can take out and play with when you want a little joy.
I know you try and love me but it's too hard,
So I will turn and walk away, I wont leave us with more scars.
I put up with so much and my armor is finally broken,
I withstood all I could, but now I have finally spoken.
I wish you would see how much I love and care,
About how I opened myself up and left myself bare.
But we're all blinded by our own points of view,
Each of our visions all torn up and askew.
I don't know what else I can say or what else I can do,
I just hope with my absence I can finally show that I truly love you.

Where is the place in which dreams start,
Is it a secret place deep in our heart?
No by dreams I mean not the ones that happen when we close our eyes,
Not the ones that pop up when we tell the world goodbye.
I mean the dreams that push us forward,
The ones that say keep going this isn't over.
The ones that make us jump like kids,
And get us all excited and make us want to live.
The ones where when times are tough,
We think this dream and its enough.
Where is the place in which they start,
Is it our home, is it our loved ones, is it our art?
What is that thing that inspires every one of us,
To try and do all these crazy things,
Like act, dance, or sing.
We each have a dream and it can't be ignored,
Inside all of us it's like a lion with a loud roar.
But time keeps telling us to shut it up.
To **** the dreams that inspire each of us.
We lose hope and let them go,
We say goodbye to the world we dreamed to hold.
Look back to the place in which they had their start,
Don't let others tear them from your heart.
Inspire, dream, and let them live,
Follow them until the very end.
Because without them we would never reach the stars,
And we wouldn't be able to take our lives too far.
But with them the world seems like magic,
With adventure, love, and something tragic.
But like all good fairy tales there is a happy end,
One with a loved one or a special friend.
So keep on dreaming until you die,
Hold on tight and let them fly.
Because in the end you will reach your dream,
And when you do all will be redeemed.

Sometimes I talk about you like you're away on a trip and you're coming back.
Throwing you into casual conversations as if the people I was conversing with felt everything you make me feel.
Pretending they understand the depths of my heart
and how deep you've fallen into it.

But not even I understand the intensity that is you.

Like gravity you pull me back and hold me down.
Trapping me in an illusion of a story never told and never to be told
but forever read in my head.
A never ending dialogue between love and loss, let go and hold on.

A love story.

A tragically beautiful love story.

You were never right for me.

The way you saw the world didn't match the world in which I lived.
We looked with two different unique perspectives.

I saw the future and my place boldly in it. You saw the now and the minor details my mind effortlessly glazed over.

I didn't know how to live for the moment, but you didn't know how to dream of the future.

But I kept moving,
and you stayed behind.

Streams flow from my eyes
The road of loneliness twist and turns down my spine
Wrists like oak trees with carved memories of loved ones souls
Fingertips as delicate and cold as an alabaster snowflake
Wind chills my body; it feels the way it felt when I lost my soul
Now I lie empty and cold wondering the amount of time it would take to build a new one
…A heart that is… it fell and broke like the glass that it is
When you tore my soul from underneath me
Like a terrible way to impress a love interest at a dinner
I’m scarred
The memory of the day you told me that your are not mentally physically and emotionally devoted to my whole being
As I am to you

I'm a ******
I don't do drugs or drink
my only flaw is how much I think
I don't believe in God but I believe in me
And I don't know where I belong on my family tree

I don't propose that **** is based on a girl's clothes
I suppose I'm dumb or brilliant but who really knows
You could say that I'm narcissistic or have low self-esteem
with a girlfriend with a pocketless pocket and a head full of dreams

Whoa that didn't flow, that last line
Imperfect effort seems to be an attribute of mine
Look at this rhyme scheme, it's so diverse
I guess I can get away with this; I couldn't get any worse
One favorite, three favorite, fifty-four
Give me validation, I could always use some more
Hello, Hellopoetry! You've been so forgiving
of my beautiful poetry that reflects an ugly way of living
Tell me, tell me: Should I write more?
What if my sadness is gone, and my melancholy no more?
Will you still love me if I write about crinkle-cut fries?

"****. No more suicide poems, does this kid still try?"

Is there still a Josh Haines if he no longer cries?
Is there still a Josh Haines if he doesn't wanna die?
Is there still a Josh Haines if he starts to fall?
Is there still a Josh Haines if he gets it all?
Is there still a Josh Haines after every kiss?
Is there still a Josh Haines after he writes all of this?

Eh. Maybe, baby. Maybe.

Keep your eyes closed, we are blind tonight
You can sit on the floorboards,
where I've bled,
naked and dark with me.

"Where are you from?

"Me?"

"Yeah. Where are you from?"

"I'm not really sure. Somewhere. Where are you from?"

"Here. Well, I was born here. I don't want to be from here, though."

"Where would you rather be from if you don't want to be from here?"

"I don't know. Anywhere but, really. Maybe Alaska."

"Why Alaska?"

"Well, I don't know. I'm not sure. Well, you see, they have a month of darkness every year. Just complete darkness. Some people think it's miserable. I think I'd like it, though. That way everyone could be just as invisible as me, even if for only a month out of the year."

Do your parents love you?
Are you religious?
Do you love everyone except yourself?
Are people nice to you?

Swim into me, swivel in the air
your eyes are penchant stares
Try all you can,
let everything and everyone caress you
Let the cold wind blow
and the warm wind undress you.

"Do you know what you did wrong?"

"What I did wrong?"

"Yeah. What you did ******* wrong."

"I-I...I'm not sure."

"You have to be ******* kidding me."

"I tried my be-"

"Shut the **** up. Shut. The. ****. Up. If you want to be something, if you want to get ahead in life, then you can't rely on me, your mother, your friends, or anyone except you. You have to know that every decision is your own, and every consequence that comes along with each decision, is your own to handle. No one will help you, and no one needs to help you because it's not their responsibility. You handle your own ****, and you do better than your best. Perfection. If you aren't perfect, then you aren't anything."

Birds and flies swivel around my head
you sit under a tree with thorns in your hair
I say, "Hi."
You say, "Hi."
I sit next to you, and you don't get up.
You smile and say, "Where have you been?"

And death shall have no dominion?
Is that so much a hope rather than opinion?
Under the windings of the sea?
And if no air breezes by, for you and me?
And if the resolution of my lack of evolution keeps me free?
Is there any hope in harmony. Is there any hope in harmony.
Is there any hope in harmony. Is there any hope in being me.

"Dreams are dangerous, Josh. They're sedatives, not cures. Choose reality. Choose the bitter pill. Because whether you believe it or not, you will end up having it whether you're forced to take it or whether you choose to take it. No matter how much talent you think you have, no matter how much stubbornness that you mistake for ambition, you will be unable to attain your dreams."

"What if you're wrong?"

"What if I'm wrong? Well, let's see-"

"No. What if you're wrong? What if you say all this because of your personal experience. What if you believe all of that because your belief in yourself was stripped by those before you? You could have done something bigger, but you gave up on yourself. You could have been someone. You could have been happy, instead of what you are now. Don't take away the only thing I have just because you have nothing."


Fear is a deadly thing to bear witness to
The hollow spot in the wall,
the eyes staring at a coffee mug,
the words, "I promise."

Tear apart an inverted heart,
and disappear into reverse midnight
All alone with a telephone,
"You're still there, right?"
Dial-tone silence followed by
fist to wall violence
and to sit alone in a bathtub
crying
is a new form of living yet
dying

I can hear violins amidst the violence
And I can see your eyes in the dark
There will be hands shaking
To you, for without, every burn
that's been allowed,
a night to relieve
your weary mind from unkind
lovers, mothers, fathers, brothers
and a hope that you retrieve
yourself in the debris


"Why do you care so much?"

"Why do I care?"

"A better question would be: Why do you care about people so much?"

"Because there's more beauty than desolation in humanity, or at least I choose to believe so."


Sunset sonata
*** in empty beds, in empty heads
Our sweat is a stranger, just like you
and just like me
*** is like society
And we're so focused on ******* each other
no matter how badly it ******* hurts us in the process