I wanted to write,
But I don't think anyone will care,
And I think that's why-
I don't think I can share.
I was diagnosed with bipolar as a young teen. It kinda *****, it's so awesome. It's like trying to pull your brain in a million different directions. It's like crippling depression that immediately becomes boundless energy. Like snapping a rubber band.
Isaac Ward Nov 3
I was young-
     When it happened.

Snow was drifting down from steel skies,
     Tumbling in slow-motion,
   My fingers were numb, my gloves thin.

The neighborhood children all gathered,
     Clad in winter coats, scarfs and mittens.

Across the street from my father's house-
     The neighbors had a tall hill,
   And we would ride our sleds until the sun went down.

I wanted hot cocoa,
     My brother wanted to race.

He told me to stop whining,
     I was the younger brother,
   And he was always right.

Then the snow stopped falling,
     And we knew- I knew something was going to...

I couldn't feel the cold,
     Everything was light, weightless,
   And my feet

I fell,
And I knew I'd fall back to Earth,
The hill, my friends, my brother grew smaller.

Then, I saw myself-
     Tumbling back down.

I awoke with a start,
     Today we'd be going sledding.
   My brother would want to race.
Isaac Ward Oct 18
The skies are sad today,
And trees have grown old,
Creaking as they wave,
With stories left untold.

The sidewalk lays cracked,
On streets left to themselves,
With tiny apartments stacked,
Like boxes on frozen shelves.

Drip. Drop.
Are the clouds crying-
From joy or loss?
Is it light, like angels flying...
Or lamenting over the cost?

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.
The sun hides his face,
From our empty, lonesome town,
And the dreary, forgotten pace-
Keeps dragging us back down.
Isaac Ward Oct 14
Monsters still roam these streets,
Their names written in every sunset,
Pronounced like wind whispering through barren trees,

They rake their claws through your hair,
Dripping ichor-venom,
Long, wicked and dirt-caked,

And they dip tentacles in your pockets,
Taking a cent here, a dollar there,
Bleeding you dry, starving you out,

These horrors call you ****, lonely,
Give you poisons as glamours,
And name themselves friend,

These beasts steal into your soul,
Become closer than your heart,
And tell you who you are.
Isaac Ward Oct 5
I love you,
Like the sun loves to glow,
Or the wind loves to blow,
Because I can't help but love you.

Yet  if the rain could refuse to fall,
And should autumn not come to call,
I'd still be stricken with love for you.

I miss you,
As the winter misses the longer days,
As the surfer yearns for taller waves,
Because it isn't the same without you.

But, if bees couldn't care less about their flowers, and rich folk moved on from their towers, I'd still miss you, and miss you all the more.

Because you, dear, I adore.

And if by this account I reckon,
(And do know, know my heart beats so),
That every moment, minute, second,
I miss and love you further, oh,
My heart will forever endure.

Of this, I am very sure.
Isaac Ward Sep 28
If you look out your window-
Don't dare look up to my sky,
Cinders choked the sun to death,
It's a black and smokey night,

Our last trees: you set ablaze,
And the grass, your kindling,
The birds and bees are dwindling,
We're left in this steel maze,

Are the streets and city lights-
Enough to guide you home?
When you choke on cinder, too-
The sun won't be alone,

And when your last fire dies away,
And the ice makes it's return,
And my sun can't shine from the afterlife,
It'll be too late to learn.
Isaac Ward Sep 27
Does life have a meaning?
Are we souls, bound in mortal shells?
Could we ever know the way-
To heaven, away from ****?

****, what if this is it?
No ascension, one life, one day?
And with a single mistake-
Does it all go away?

I'm scared, shaking in fear,
Could we comprehend a purpose?
Or once the candle is snuffed-
Is the melted wax worthless?
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