soul
shadow & sugar…
you are
allowed to be
a many-layered thing…
to have texture and shades.
to be kissed by the sunlight
and bitten by the moon
and to feel all the different ways
that you feel,
all the raw and tender mess of it all.
to let all of that shadow and sugar be in you
and the pretty and dirty and beautiful and wild
run through you and spill out of you
everywhere, all at once…
to just let yourself be a
soft and wild thing.
– butterflies rising
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the way she’s such a soft thing
and still lets everything made of fire
run so wild in her veins
– butterflies rising
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what
you’re drawn to
when you catch fire…
that’s where
you’ll find love.
– butterflies rising
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what you go to just because you’re lonely
isn’t love. but what you’re drawn to when you
catch fire… that’s where you’ll find love.
– butterflies rising
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you.
…the way you give me butterflies and adrenaline highs,
and who you are, and how you are, and how you think and
speak and feel and exist and move,
and there’s this feeling when you look at me… i think
this is maybe love… how you actually give a damn
about all this mess inside my head.
– butterflies rising
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he said,
what do you want?
i said… you.
he said,
no. i want to know what you want… for you.
i want…
to search. and stretch. and grow. and glow.
and drip myself in wild creativity,
and burn and breathe at once
in this skin. in these lungs.
wings untethered, under the moon, into the sky,
and to dream big and bigger and biggest,
and to feel free in here… inside my anxious chest.
to just. feel. free.
and to have the universe say… yes, you are worthy of all this.
and yes… you.
…the way you give me butterflies and adrenaline highs,
and who you are, and how you are, and how you think and
speak and feel and exist and move,
and there’s this feeling when you look at me… i think
this is maybe love… how you actually give a damn
about all this mess inside my head.
– butterflies rising
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let’s lose ourselves
in wild creativity and glow.
and burn and breathe at once in our skin.
out of our lungs.
pouring the aches from our chests.
with our wings wide open.
– butterflies rising
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