connection
the kind of love
that shifts you. and stirs you.
and awakens you. and inspires you.
and blooms wild and burns bright
inside of you… and for you…
and through you.
a visceral thing that you touch
and taste and feel in your senses,
in your being, in your soul…
in your everything.
a knowing.
beyond what you understand in your head,
a knowing that you feel in your heart…
one that you feel in your chest walls.
– butterflies rising
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…a heart that changes shape when something moves you
Say this to yourself as much as you need to hear it…
“Being affected by things is beautiful.”
As overwhelming as it can get… it is beautiful. And your heart may get a little worn out and weary at times, but it grows and expands and makes space for more… more beauty, more love, more compassion, more passion… you are moved, and affected, and changed, and expanded by things, and it’s beautiful.
– butterflies rising
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i’m restless
and wild again and all
i wanna do is get lost with you…
i’m on edge in my skin
and the stillness feels loud
and slowing it all down isn’t going
to calm this wildfire heart…
i want to chase where it’s racing to
and follow what it’s aching for,
so take me somewhere beautiful and
show me something breathtaking;
let’s go somewhere with less gravity…
break free with me.
touch stars with me.
lose time with me…
because this restlessness
is running wild again, but the peace
always feels like you.
– butterflies rising
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just take me somewhere beautiful and show me
something breathtaking… let’s go somewhere with
less gravity. break free with me. touch stars with me.
lose time with me…
– butterflies rising
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i don’t know how to love within reason… i’m heart and guts and ache and mess and passion and soul… and all i can do is just feel it all.
– butterflies rising
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the next time
a boy wants to bring me flowers,
he has to want to love
my fire too.
– butterflies rising
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he loved my fire…
as long as i was held tight within his grasp.
but when i was out of his line of sight,
i’d better be somewhere
soft-voiced and southern-charmed,
sitting still and not looking too pretty.
and so i made myself sweeter and smaller
and less and less and less, for his fears…
and in the end, he still couldn’t love me.
and i didn’t love me either.
but i’m slowly starting to…
and i want to love all of me.
so the next time a boy wants to bring me flowers,
he has to want to love my fire too.
– butterflies rising
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could you
love her, still…
when she’s not only
soft in your arms
but when she’s wild
with the moon and restless…
and maybe just a little out of reach
from your fingertips.
could you love her, still,
when she’s not only sweet and
resting easy on your chest,
but when she’s wild blossomed in the night
and searching for more inside of herself
than who you may think she is.
could you love her
not just when she’s flowers
but when she’s fire.
she has to know… if she lets you close…
when she blooms wild and burns bright…
could you love her, still.
– butterflies rising
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searching for a way to say “I need me” and “I want you”… all in the same breath.
– butterflies rising
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somewhere
there is a lover who
will kiss you like you have
poetry and addiction
on your lips
and needs your touch
and taste like mercy
on their soul
– butterflies rising
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