a Poem by ℜaquel δwann


You’re fine, you’re just a worrier,

they say.

Meanwhile, a dormant volcano

comes to life

rumbling and shaking

terrible tremors

inside deep hidden caverns.

Heat from spewing magma

rushes through every vein.

Sirens screech,

the warning has been sent.

All focus points inwards,

nothing matters

but this.

Will I die?

Hollow voices and

gentle hands

have no power

over this.

Everyone here is in

full retreat.

Moments pass and,

luckily this time

the volcano tapers off


but surely.

You pray

and dream

there won’t be a next time.

But, because of your

constant praying,

and hoping,

and dreaming,

and thinking,

and worrying,

there’s sure to be

a next time.