the thunder roars in every heartbeat

lightning strikes in my eyes,

rain pours with each cry out to God

to take my life away from me.

the flowers at the bottom of my throat are dead.

apparently, you can’t water flowers with vodka.

but God does not bless this Earth

with thunderstorms for nothing to follow.

so after the rain dries and my thunder dies down

the lightning in my eyes turns into light

from the sun,

and I turn out okay

and life goes on.

- bipolar pt. 1