i think about how we give so much credit to the heavy and hard things…

i think about how
we give so much credit
to the heavy and hard things
for how beautiful we are…

how we tell others of the
darkness we’ve pushed through
and they say things like…
“it’s why you’re so strong.”
or they speak of all that depth and
texture it’s given our character.
and i think… it’s true.

but i also think…
of the soft places i’ve had to fall
where i can just be like a flower
and made of my wild vulnerability,
or of the moments in this life that
bring out my glow… and of the ones
who are there to witness it, and how
they tell me that it’s beautiful…
and of all the sparks of inspiration
like little embers on my pathways
that help spark my own fires that i
have waiting inside of me.

as much as i can see how we
grow from the push of darkness…
i think we also need that feeling
of light to help pull us into our bloom.
and maybe it matters more than we
know how much a little spark we
leave somewhere might be a
needed light… the way it could
remind someone they are made
of flowers… and help pull
them into their bloom.

– butterflies rising

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the sensitive and passionate souls are the flowers here…

the sensitive and passionate souls are the flowers here. in this harsh world, the way you feel and pour it all out

the sensitive
and passionate souls
are the flowers here.
in this harsh world,
the way you feel and pour it all out,
leaving bright and vulnerable
beauty all around,
the artists and lovers,
intense feelers and wild dreamers,
with your soft and aching hearts…
i know it gets heavy and can feel
hard to be how you are,
but you are the flowers here…
so please… be just how you are.

– butterflies rising

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i’ve got dreams… ones that are drenched in art and taste like adventure…

i've got dreams... ones that are drenched in art and taste like adventure

i’ve got dreams…
ones that are drenched in art
and taste like adventure…
ones that feel like
being kissed until my heart bursts…
ones that open up my whole soul
like a wildflower on fire.

– butterflies rising

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little seeds, someday flowers… today i will be good to myself, and tomorrow maybe a little bit better…

little seeds, someday flowers... today i will be good to myself, and tomorrow maybe a little

little seeds, someday flowers…

today i will
be good to myself,
and tomorrow maybe
a little bit better,
until being good to me
is a little easier,
and maybe even someday
not so hard at all.
maybe these are just little seeds
but i’ll keep giving them
touches of sunlight…
just a little hope here
and a little grace there
and a little more light in those
places holding all the fear,
and then maybe all these little seeds
just might grow until someday they
become flowers…
and then i will be made of flowers.

– butterflies rising

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this world can feel so harsh and ugly to you because you are so soft and vulnerable… just like flowers…

soft and vulnerable and beautiful, just like flowers.

this world can
feel so harsh and ugly
to you because you are
so soft and vulnerable
and beautiful… like flowers.
now imagine this world
without flowers.
so please let yourself be
something in this world that is soft
and vulnerable and beautiful,
just like flowers.

– butterflies rising

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to see herself in the way that she looks at flowers…

like she's a beautiful wildness on fire - butterflies rising

she wanders
out in the flowers,
in the wild, where the breathing
is easy and free… because it’s where
the judgment goes quiet…
and everything beautiful is so untouched.
it’s just beautiful. and wild. and fearless.
and whether it grows into something more
or burns down and has to start again,
it just does… fearlessly.
beautifully. and wild.
so she wanders out where she
can learn to see herself that way;
to see herself in the way that she looks
at flowers… like she’s a beautiful
wildness on fire.

– butterflies rising

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this is my heart, so if i give it to you: love like flowers and fire poem…

give me love like flowers and fire - butterflies rising

this is my heart,
so if i give it to you…
take it where a heart can race
and a soul can run free,
but still be held… close.
where wild is a love language,
but trust is still a sure thing,
and vulnerable a feeling we know,
but fire a flavor we taste when we kiss
and passion something that burns
in us and all around us… i wanna
feel chills run through me with
just. a finger touch.
when you look at me…
it’s like i lose my senses and find
my way home, all at once.
so take me with you…
let’s go where everything is soft and wild;
give me love like flowers and fire.

– butterflies rising

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