your perfect atoms…

you cannot love yourself and apologize for who you are at the same time

you cannot love yourself and apologize for
who you are at the same time… and you don’t need to say
“i’m sorry” for the way your perfect atoms find
themselves falling into place as the beautiful
universe that you are.

– butterflies rising

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an “i’m sorry” under every breath…

i’ve apologized for myself for so much of my life... and i’m still learning how to take up space

i’ve apologized for myself for so much
of my life… and i’m still learning how to take
up space without feeling like i’m holding an
“i’m sorry” under every breath.

– butterflies rising

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things i am learning not to apologize for…

there are things i am learning not to apologize for... the way i express myself the way i am discovering myself

there are things
i am learning not to apologize for…

– the way i express myself
– the way i am discovering myself
and growing into myself
– the way i take up my own space…
the space that is meant for me
– the things someone else may not like about me
but that i like about me

…because none of these things are anything wrong
with me. they are things that are right in me. and those
are things i should never have to be sorry for.

– butterflies rising

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i hope you can hear this…

it's been so. damn. hard. but you've been so brave.

i hope
you can hear this…
when your soul is suffocating
from all the things you just. can’t. say.
as they chew at your chest,
and you ache and crumble
until you become nothing
but mess and madness
gutted. on the floor.
and in the dark. and it’s so. dark.
that even the moon hides and the stars
go quiet and anything that ever
sounded like a way out just. goes. quiet.
i hope you hear this… it’s been so. damn. hard.
but you’ve been so brave.

– butterflies rising

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if it comes close to you…

if it comes close to you, it has to be destiny-colored and deep. souled.

if it comes
close to you,
it has to be destiny-colored
and deep. souled.
there is too much gold in that skin
for anything but sure hands
to touch it.
there is too. much. fire. in that chest…
they’ve got to dance with your wildness
and play in your beautiful mess
and drip wild poetry on your lips
with their kiss.

if it comes close to you,
it has to feel like this.
nothing less.

– butterflies rising

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