how powerful music can be…

that’s just how powerful music can be. it’s such an aesthetic in our existence.

…some songs are just barely becoming safe again,
and some songs maybe never will be.

and i think that’s just how powerful music can be.
it’s such an aesthetic in our existence. we feel so much
from it, and because of it, and through it… and
so it can break us completely open in heartbreak,
but i wouldn’t trade that for how much it makes us feel
alive and free and infinite, and in love, in all of
the beautiful moments.

– butterflies rising

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between soul and skin…

maybe tonight we just dissolve into the stars... leaving gravity behind

maybe tonight
we just dissolve into the stars…
leaving gravity behind,
quieting our heads and trading
all our dreams and curiosities
between soul and skin.
i just. get. restless.
and i can’t stay too human
for too long… it’s too heavy.
i need to leave the atmosphere,
or pull your soul aesthetic closer;
close enough to taste moon dust
in the back of my throat.
and whether we actually transcend
or just lose all sense…
i don’t care.
let’s break open and
scatter and spill and spill…
our wild universes
colliding under these stars.

– butterflies rising

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the spaces we’ve called love…

love can’t exist in a space without kindness

the spaces we’ve called love…

it’s heartbreaking
how many of us have felt in love
with people who were not even kind
to us…

how many of us weren’t taught that
love can’t exist in a space without kindness.
or without respect. or in a space that
doesn’t honor us and cherish us.

so many of us are learning that the spaces
we’ve called being in love, weren’t
spaces of love at all

– butterflies rising

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unheavy… it was the way you just let me breathe here…

wonder of our dreams in the glow of the moon

it was the way
you just let me breathe here.
and just be here.
you didn’t ask
anything else of me.
not to tangle in your weaknesses
or to heal your wounds.
you just asked me to know you…
to just know you.
to let it all be unheavy,
here next to you…
and just wonder of our dreams in
the glow of the moon.

– butterflies rising

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