Flowers And Fire
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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to be such a soft thing…
and still let everything made of fire
run so wild in her veins
– butterflies rising
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he’s got a little
mischief in his smile
and a little wild in his eyes,
but there’s bleeding in that heart
and a whole lot of passion in that soul,
and he doesn’t just make you feel things…
he lets himself feel it all too.
– the boys who bleed flowers and fire
– butterflies rising
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love languages…
blood + fire… the wild. the passionate.
the visceral things that burn in your veins,
that bite at your senses, that give you a pulse
sugar + flowers… the sweet. the soft.
the vulnerable things that tender the walls
and break your heart open
love + soul… the deep. the true. the heart.
the lungs. the breathing. the wings. the free…
the things you ache for… and the ones that ache back
magic + stars… the infinite. the destined.
the things you feel beyond words, beyond bodies,
beyond… before… after… always.
– butterflies rising
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i love like flowers and fire…
i don’t know any other way.
soft and vulnerable… and wild
and burning… with my heart
broken. wide. open.
– butterflies rising
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i love like flowers and fire…
i don’t know any other way.
soft and vulnerable,
and wild and burning…
with my heart broken. wide. open.
and even though he came in like wildfire,
he was just. broken.
and hardened. and filled with an
ugliness raging inside of him
and he thought that if he raged
hard enough against me
that he could rage an ugliness out
from inside of me too.
then he could say, “see, it’s you.”
that he could be so hard to love that
he could make me feel hard to love too.
but i just softly left the room.
a graceful exit.
and i wrote all my feelings down to shed
his hardened residue.
and to remind myself of all the ways
that there are such beautiful and tender
things in me… always.
– butterflies rising
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