Lyrix Perspective on Smoke Of Your Own Desire

I don’t think we really decide to become artists — I think it’s something that’s already written in us before we even realize it. For me, it started young. I’d hear a song and immediately start changing the lyrics in my head, thinking how I’d say it differently. I’d sit in class and scribble down lines or phrases that came out of nowhere. I still do that today.

It’s like the music was always there — I just finally stopped ignoring it.

There’s one message I’ll never forget — a woman reached out to me about “Half of Me.” She told me she had just lost her husband and that the song helped her through the first few days of grief. I’ll be honest, that message hit me hard.

It reminded me that songs live longer than the moment you write them. They find people right when they need them most — and that’s a kind of connection I’ll never take for granted.

I just want to help people through whatever they’re going through. Music has a way of healing — whether you’re sad, angry, hurt, or even happy, it finds a way to meet you where you are. It can calm you, lift you, or remind you that you’re not alone.

For me, music isn’t just sound — it’s memories, emotions, and moments that stay with us. If something I write can help someone get through a hard day or bring back a memory worth holding onto, then that’s reason enough to keep going.

Success isn’t about numbers or charts for me. It’s about connection. A couple of weeks ago, a woman messaged me after hearing “Half of Me.” She told me she had just lost her husband and that the song helped her through those first hard days. Moments like that stop me in my tracks. That’s what it’s all about — writing something honest enough that someone else feels understood, even if we’ve never met.

If one person finds comfort or strength in something I’ve written, that means more to me than any stream count ever could. That’s the kind of success that lasts.

Honest. Relatable. Real.

“Half of Me” will probably always hold the deepest spot for me. It’s about waking up and realizing the love you thought would last forever is gone — and it doesn’t matter who ended it or why, it still hurts like hell. Moving on isn’t easy. That song came from a place of trying to heal, one lyric at a time.

My music is country at its core — honest stories, simple truths, and a whole lot of emotion. It’s about real people and real feelings, the kind you can’t hide from. If you’ve ever loved deeply, lost hard, or tried to stand up again after falling apart, you’ll find a piece of yourself in it

Most of my songs sit in that space between holding on and letting go. I write about love that changes you, heartbreak that teaches you, and the strength that shows up when you least expect it. It’s not always pretty, but it’s always honest.

This song is about drawing the line. It’s the moment when you catch someone cheating, realize you deserve better, and walk away without looking back.

I’ve lived through my share of broken trust and goodbyes that never really felt finished. “Smoke of Your Own Desire” came from one of those moments — when you finally see someone for who they are, and you realize you can’t keep standing in their fire hoping they’ll change.

I’m Lyrix — a songwriter more than anythng. I write about the moments that hit hard and linger long after the song ends. Every lyric comes from real emotion — the kind you don’t always talk about out loud. My music is where heartbreak and hope meet halfway.

I want them to feel seen.

Whether they’re going through heartbreak, trying to heal, or just figuring out who they are, I want my songs to make them pause and think, “Yeah… that’s exactly how I feel.”

Music has always been my way of saying what I can’t always say out loud — and I hope my songs give someone else that same comfort when they need it.