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

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the beautiful universe of you…

and your heart was placed inside with all your magic buried in it

the universe
burst stars open
and let the pieces fall
and they settled into a shape
and it was given your name
and your heart was placed inside
with all your magic buried in it
with moondust on the edges
and all your flowers planted with it
and this is you…
this is all inside of you.
so how could anyone
ever look at you
and not be breathtakingly fascinated
by the wonder of it all

– butterflies rising

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a graceful exit…

i love like flowers and fire...

i love like flowers and fire…
i don’t know any other way.
soft and vulnerable,
and wild and burning…
with my heart broken. wide. open.
and even though he came in like wildfire,
he was just. broken.
and hardened. and filled with an
ugliness raging inside of him
and he thought that if he raged
hard enough against me
that he could rage an ugliness out
from inside of me too.
then he could say, “see, it’s you.”
that he could be so hard to love that
he could make me feel hard to love too.
but i just softly left the room.
a graceful exit.
and i wrote all my feelings down to shed
his hardened residue.
and to remind myself of all the ways
that there are such beautiful and tender
things in me… always.

– butterflies rising

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