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

Read More →

love and wandering…

when i get close, and when i let walls fall... i become a wild mess.

when i get close,
and when i let walls fall…
i become a wild mess. and i get fully disarmed.
i just wildflower open… soft. vulnerable.
and i become such an easy mark for the way that forever is
such a pretty word off the corner of your smile… and god,
how it feels like the sweetest. thing.
and i swear it… that stars shine brighter,
and skin feels even softer, and songs sink in a little deeper,
and the words are the sweetest. sugar.
and they mean ten times, a hundred times, all the times more…
and i feel it all like lightning and soul-imprint in my marrow.
and it’s beautiful. and it’s terrifying.
because my safe space… is in the wild open…
where there’s growing space and soul-searching space,
and where my fire is bright, and my wings are wide,
and my breathing is all its own, and where i can always
feel the way my heart beats on its own…
with me over here. and you over there.
and i don’t know if my heart will ever settle it…
the way everything is more beautiful when i’m in love,
but i feel so much stronger when i’m not.

– butterflies rising

Read More →

in the wild open…

my safe space… is in the wild open. where there’s growing space and soul-searching space

my safe space…
is in the wild open.
where there’s growing space
and soul-searching space,
and where my fire is bright,
and my wings are wide,
and my breathing is all its own…
and where i can always feel the way
my heart beats on its own.

– butterflies rising

Read More →

the tender and the fire…

give me the tender and the fire. i want the angst and ache and wild mess.

give me
the tender and the fire.
i want the angst and ache
and wild mess.
all of it broken open,
nothing less.
because there’s just nothing else
that can disarm me like that.
it completely takes me apart…
a man’s passion and
raw vulnerability,
the stretching of his heart walls
and all those flowers growing
from his chest.

– butterflies rising

Read More →

all those flowers growing from your chest…

the stretching of your heart walls and all those flowers growing from your chest.

give me
your tender and your fire…
all of it broken open, nothing less.
the stretching of your heart walls and all those
flowers growing from your chest.

– butterflies rising

Read More →

angst and ache and wild mess…

give me your tender and your fire. your angst and ache and wild mess.

give me your tender and your fire. your angst
and ache and wild mess. all of it broken open,
nothing less. i want passion and raw vulnerability…
the stretching of your heart walls and all those
flowers growing from your chest.

– butterflies rising

Read More →

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

Read More →