a wild heart burning…
you stay still
waiting for a cold heart to
warm towards you,
while somewhere else out there
is a wild heart burning,
so untamed, and so unafraid to light up
everything in you
– butterflies rising
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she’s a
wildflower on fire
with all that
sweet soul sugar
making your heart. beat.
and your skin cells rise,
she’s wild butterflies,
and the way she looks at you
under a wild moon
making your pulse move,
her beautiful chaos
asking you to dig deep
into that passion in your bones
and bleed out all those beautiful things
that your own wildfires hold.
– butterflies rising
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let me learn how to hold my own fire before
you ask my heart to catch fire for you.
– butterflies rising
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trying to force another flower to close
will never help you bloom, and trying to put out
someone else’s fire will never help you burn…
waging war on other women is never going to give
you peace inside of yourself… and that’s what
you’re truly looking for.
– butterflies rising
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i think you’re made
of flowers; how you bloom
when there’s light on your skin.
you feel all that fire in your soul,
and it’s. so. beautiful.
but keep letting the sweetness in.
let yourself feel the glow.
be gentle with your raging heart
and softer with your chaos.
you are a wild thing,
but you are such a tender thing…
so maybe let even a little more of
that gentle in with how you grow.
dig out from the dark what you need to
and burn down what you have to
but then let yourself light up.
let in a little more sweetness
and a little more glow…
and let yourself feel all the ways
you’re made of flowers.
– butterflies rising
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soul-tangled
with you.
you were an imprint here
before we touched wild skin.
you were a feeling. a sense.
and now
you’re an instinct. a gravity.
with. you.
my heart has no defense.
i feel chemicals with you.
my skin remembers you.
and when our bodies have to
untangle and let this life turn over
you’ll be just a feeling
and just a sense…
but only until
we’re skin to skin again.
– butterflies rising
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Wildfire Heart…
it’s breathtaking,
how your heart spills out of you
so achingly soft, and so chaotically unsure,
but as if the entire world catches fire
and you’re wanting to just be
so in love with it all
– butterflies rising
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