The speaker is watching something they love fall apart and can't stop it. The poem never says what the "world" actually is, which lets almost any loss fit: a relationship, a family, a way of life. What matters is the helplessness. The speaker begins with questions, as if hoping someone will explain what to do, then settles into a flat, painful picture of standing still while everything crashes.
The central image is glass. It is precious and fragile, and it "shouldn't break," yet it does. The short lines and repeated words ("Watch it crash. / Watch it break.") feel like a slow-motion replay, with each beat landing hard. Being "tied" suggests the speaker is trapped, and even if they were free, they wouldn't know how to repair the damage.
The mood is sad, tense and full of regret. The last line, "Wish you could rewind," ends on a quiet, childlike longing to undo what has already happened.