you don’t ever want to come undone…

you don't ever want to come undone

her
cherry lips on
his whiskey-flavored kiss
and that kind of sugar that
can cause a hard defense
to soften. so. easy…
and you end up with your walls down
and your mind forgotten
and your pulse. affected.
all of it tangled up together…
his heart. her heart. his curious fingertips…
her dangerously. soft. skin.

how you lose your senses in that kind of love…
you get wrapped up in so. much. sweet.
and you don’t ever want to come undone.

– butterflies rising

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this love will touch. taste. feel. like fire…

if they are for you... you'll feel it in your chest walls

this love will touch.
taste. feel. like fire…
and your soul will stir
and your heart will race
and the awakenings
will come again and again.
and just. the existence of them…
who they are… how they are…
it will create all those hurricanes
that you feel in your chest walls.

and that’s how you’ll know.
because if they are for you…
you’ll feel it in your chest walls.

– butterflies rising

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artists and lovers… maybe, you’ll lose a little sleep and the sanity will waver…

artists and lovers... maybe, you'll lose a little sleep and the sanity will waver... but you'll trade it for the dreams.

artists and lovers...

maybe,
you’ll lose a little sleep
and the sanity will waver…
but you’ll trade it for the dreams.
for the bleeding of the colors
and the escape from time.
and maybe the peace will take turns with the chaos,
but this love will touch. taste. feel. like fire…
and your soul will stir
and your heart will race
and the art will breathe
and the awakenings will come again and again.
and just. the existence of them…
who they are… how they are…
it will create all those hurricanes
that you feel in your chest walls.

and that’s how you’ll know.
because if they are for you…
you’ll feel it in your chest walls.

– butterflies rising

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to the artists and lovers… maybe, you’ll lose a little sleep and the sanity will waver

to the artists and lovers…  maybe, you’ll lose a little sleep and the sanity will waver

to the artists and lovers…

maybe you’ll lose a little sleep
and the sanity will waver… but you’ll
trade it for the dreams and for the bleeding
of the colors and the escape from time,
and your soul will stir, and your heart will race,
and the art will breathe, and the awakenings
will come again and again and again…

– butterflies rising

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without a fight…

...let me fall madly for me first.

beautiful…
the way you say it,
how it feels. too. good.
like quenching thirst on my skin.
how i feel too desperate to hear it…
but how i can’t let it stay because
i’m too unsure to hold it.
so please…
don’t say it.
i want to have heard it enough in
my own voice that i don’t need you to say it…
but, also… so that when you do…
i can let it fall on me without a fight

…let me fall madly for me first.

– butterflies rising

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for so long i thought if i could just become. enough. that it would be enough…

for so long i thought if i could just become. enough. that it would be enough for him to be good to me

for so long
i thought if i could just become. enough.
that it would be enough for him to be good to me
until i finally realized that wasn’t what he wanted.

he wanted me to be pretty enough
to be beautiful in his eyes,
but my eyes better not be too bright,
and that dress better not be too short,
and those lips better not be too full of lush and love
or talk of too much life for anyone else to see
something beautiful in me…
or heaven forbid,
for me to see something beautiful in myself.
and those dreams i had to find my voice and to spill
all the wild from my heart out into the world…
if i was chasing those dreams,
then i wouldn’t be small enough or sitting still enough as
the sure thing there waiting while he was chasing his.
the more i tried to be. enough. the more i became too much.

because underneath all the ways he needed me to be small,
“enough” is what he felt like he wasn’t.

– butterflies rising

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