love me youngblooded and firehearted…

she’s flowers and fire. - butterflies rising

love me
stretched out,
wing tips
touching nothing
but wild air…
love. me.
youngblooded and firehearted.
and when there’s aching in me,
please say, “chase it.”
and when there’s growing in me,
please say,
“it’s beautiful.”
love this restless soul
and this bleeding heart
that are falling all over you
messy and wild
just dying to love you
reckless and wild.
love me…
and tell me how free
my lungs will always breathe
when i love you.

– butterflies rising

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you are a golden thing​…

you are a golden thing in this heavy, heavy world - butterflies rising

i could get lost
in all the little ways
you carry love, and carry light,
and hold so much
goodness in your being,
you are a golden thing
in this heavy, heavy world,
and everything feels new
when i look at you

– butterflies rising

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love her flowers and fire…

love her flowers and fire

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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