Growing Up is Chaos
For some, it comes with a weight we didn’t ask for
heavy with everything we do not wish to hold.
Time slips through our fingers
As we tend to everything in our lives
but ourselves;
Our body, we neglect
Our emotions, we silence
And our soul, we fail to nourish.
We are candles on wicker wick,
burning bright,
burning fast,
until there’s nothing left
but smoke.
Jan 14
Jan 14, 2026 at 9:36 PM UTC
Growing Up is Chaos
For some, it comes with a weight we didn’t ask for
heavy with everything we do not wish to hold.
Time slips through our fingers
As we tend to everything in our lives
but ourselves;
Our body, we neglect
Our emotions, we silence
And our soul, we fail to nourish.
We are candles on wicker wick,
burning bright,
burning fast,
until there’s nothing left
but smoke.
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