It's not a scar.
This is love overflowing.
I cannot give it anymore.
You are gone.

This is my life's work,
My genius showing,
My own Black Square, a poem
That won't explain.

This is the eye within my eye,
Or should I say, soul
Breaking through its windows,
This viewer of my heart.

This is the night falling,
The weight of the weightless suns,
The length of my journey,
Pain's pinnacle.

This is my curfew.
I need
     To go home.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Because a glimpse of the world,
Cease to exist as I sit in despair,
The contrast of a disability,
Is how I stay aware.

I may not see the bright blue skies,
Or the glowing stars that shines at night,
I still hear the rain as it claps on the ground,
And the voice of a man singing in delight.

Like water shall fall as if I were a cascade,
I may not see where I set foot,
But I can touch the stones called walls,
The softness of my shoes that helps me stay put.

I may not see the colour of your lips,
As some would say pink or close to wine,
But I do not care,
As I feel love when our lips sync and arms intertwine.

I am not a blind man,
But if I could walk a mile,
The land discovered shall be cherished,
Shall it be a journey worthwhile.

Why are my heroes less real than yours? I'm so **** sick of that stupid cliche "cops and soldiers, and firefighters up up and away." None of them were there for me in any way.
I don't give a crap if you won't follow or if I never see a "like" or a "favorite" again.
God almighty couldn't stop my pen.
So why are my heroes less real then yours?
Isn't god just as real as mine?
So shut the hell up and get back in line.
you know who was there the day I couldn't stand.
Not your heroes playing wars in the sand.
Not your cops, who were off killing kids.
No fire here, turn a deaf ear.
The ones who were there for me on that day. Was a hero in red with horns on his head. A man all in black who dressed like a bat. A solider that stood for what a nation aspires. And a immigrant from who knows where.
They taught me my morals from birth this I swear. They taught me right. They taught me wrong. I don't give a **** if you think I'm wrong.
I will write comics as bright as the sun. I will save worlds with words. I won't apologise, don't insult the fire in my eyes.
I've never questioned to what you aspired. I never met your heroes before but I respect the story's of yours in the war. Of cops who helped kids who didn't have a dime, of firefighters saving people in time.
so leave mine alone they saved plenty they have. Even if its only the life of a depressed lonely lad.

I wish for the day we find someone who doesn't have to play pretend,
who sees my scars,
and softly presses their lips to every single one,
not to erase them,
but to simply accept the parts of me I am not proud of,
as they are,
as I am,
and then last they will take their lips and rest them on mine,
not to erase me,
but to colour me for the rest of time.

Cure me
Of this plague
That’s snaking around my throat

Allow me to tiptoe
To avoid confrontation
Social humiliation

I would speak if I could only say the words
Cure me
Of the echoing dull in my heart
A dying buzz

A cycle of depression
Undecipherable ****** expressions
Stunting my progression

I would sing if I didn’t care who heard
The vines circling my feet
Threatening to tighten
Forever clutching
Me in its embrace

I need you
You say you know me
Maybe I don’t want you to
The biggest lie, can’t you see?
Because I don’t even understand me
I hide behind poetry

I would pray to a God, if I were sure
Sure that this world kept its promises
Every inhale a burning desire
Reverberating thoughts clouding
Polluting my mind
Exhale

This isn’t a plea
But I am trying to oversee
But this love I feel for you
Isn’t meant for just one,
It needs two

This legacy of pain
Scorching my veins
Spreading the plague
A world filled of vague

Cure me
Before it spreads
**To you

You try to make me see
The height to which I’ve climbed,
To make me afraid of being free
And to forever rid me blind.

But I’ve got somethin’ for ya;
You ain’t got nothin on me!
This height is