Aug 8
it’s a bad,
bad world.
the world's
on fire —
and i'm just
livin' in it.
don’t
tell me
it's alright,
don't tell
me it'll
be fine.
because
when the
fire winds
down,
all that's
left is smoke —
truths and regrets.
the world
feels heavy,
and i wish
this wasn’t
testing me.
(is it over yet?)
all
i want,
and all
i need,
is to
find my
center again —
and not
let this
get the best
of me.
because
being pulled
down by
the weight
of the world
is somewhere
i don’t
want to
end up
again.
bad world.
the world's
on fire —
and i'm just
livin' in it.
don’t
tell me
it's alright,
don't tell
me it'll
be fine.
because
when the
fire winds
down,
all that's
left is smoke —
truths and regrets.
the world
feels heavy,
and i wish
this wasn’t
testing me.
(is it over yet?)
all
i want,
and all
i need,
is to
find my
center again —
and not
let this
get the best
of me.
because
being pulled
down by
the weight
of the world
is somewhere
i don’t
want to
end up
again.
"When the Fire Winds Down" was written from a low point — not the dramatic kind, but the slow, quiet weight that lingers. I’ve been wrestling with fear, doubt, and the ache of feeling stuck.
Wanting to take risks. Afraid to take risks. Tired of standing still but unsure how to move forward. This poem is about that moment when you’re trying to find your center again — not for anyone else, just so you can keep going.
Wanting to take risks. Afraid to take risks. Tired of standing still but unsure how to move forward. This poem is about that moment when you’re trying to find your center again — not for anyone else, just so you can keep going.
