Don't  tell me you care because you don't.

When was the last time you cared about another more than yourself?

Don't tell me you care because you don't.

When was the last time you went out of your way to help a stranger in need?

Don't tell me you care because you don't.

When was the last time you gave random acts of kindness to the people around you?

Don't tell me you care because you don't

When was the last time you gave your friend or family a hug, and told them you love them?

When was the last time you gave generously to someone even though they didn't desrve it?

Don't tell me you care because you don't.

Don't tell me you care just show it.

Words are just words until they are done.

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.

my body has begun
to bear the weight
you've put on my mind

i don't know how i got
these scratches and bruises
but i'm blaming you

it's easier that way

I took it and
swallowed my aches down with
three cubes of sugary smiles while
digging up six feet of dirt
shoving it in without a proper funeral, but
now it's come back.

it's nearer than we think.
we swear under our breaths
and see blisters before they form, but
we just need to pick our feet up
and start
walking.