what
you’re drawn to
when you catch fire…
that’s where
you’ll find love.
– butterflies rising
Read More →when you catch fire…
i think it’s breathtaking…
wildfires, butterflies and glow…
beautiful things spill out of you the way
wildfires burn… the way butterflies
fly wild… the way fireflies glow
– butterflies rising
Read More →your wildfire heart spilling out…
i think it’s
breathtaking…
how your heart just
spills out of you.
it’s some kind of soul ache
just… pouring. out.
it’s somewhere dark that
your spirit has had to fight from…
there’s wreckage where it all comes from,
and there are times that just being
human feels like a violence.
but beautiful things spill out of you
the way wildfires burn… the way
butterflies fly wild… the way fireflies glow
…so let your heart be fire. and let your
soul be wild. and let your spirit glow.
because the way it all spills out of you
is just… breathtaking.
– butterflies rising
Read More →fire, wild and glow…
just let your heart be fire and
let your soul be wild and
let your spirit glow.
– butterflies rising
Read More →gentle in the unknown…
soft soul…
Soft Soul…
you are so
sensitive, and you think
that’s what’s
wrong with you…
but it’s something beautiful
about you,
it’s what makes you
so good.
– butterflies rising
Read More →the reckoning…
you cannot try to silence
a collective pain for so long and not
expect a collective rage to eventually come.
– butterflies rising
Read More →muscle memory…
i spent so long aching for him
to be good to me,
to just let someone be good to me…
it’s a whole new muscle memory my
heart still has to learn.
– butterflies rising
Read More →never again…
never again
let your heart settle.
never. again.
hold it close
to anyone
who doesn’t see
your light-giving,
breath-stealing,
fire-starting magic…
or who sees it all,
and tries to hold
you back.
never again.
– butterflies rising
Read More →too full, too much…
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 out
the words and the wild
from my heart onto pages
and 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
Read More →