something like wings… through all the layers of dark and unsure…

that wild in your heart and those flowers in your chest and the fire in your blood

something like wings…

through all the
layers of dark and unsure
that wild in your heart
and those flowers in your chest
and the fire in your blood
and that feeling that you’re going
to break. free. some. how.
have stirred within you
in spite of everything that has
tried to weigh heavy on your soul.
there’s always been an ache in your
back that has felt something like wings…
something inside of you has always
been trying to carry you.

– butterflies rising

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somewhere there is a lover who will kiss you like you have poetry and addiction on your lips…

somewhere there is a lover who will kiss you like you have poetry and addiction on your lips

somewhere
there is a lover who
will kiss you like you have
poetry and addiction
on your lips
and needs your touch
and taste like mercy
on their soul

– butterflies rising

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that there are wilder sunsets and more colors to know. that there are still answers for what’s pulling at you….

i think you have to chase it. that thing that tells you... keep. going. that there are wilder sunsets

i think
you have to chase it.
that thing that tells you…
keep. going.
that there are wilder sunsets
and more colors to know.
that there are still answers for
what’s pulling at you.
that the emptiness and heartbreak aren’t
where love will leave you because somewhere
there is a lover who will kiss you like you have
poetry and addiction on your lips and who
needs your touch and taste like
mercy on their soul.
and there are all those virgin, unfelt things in you;
still untouched and tender and unfolding.
so you have to keep searching.
for all that soul stuff.
until your intangible aches are in the flesh
and that fire within you is spilling all around you…
i think you have to keep going.

– butterflies rising

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i think you have to chase it. that thing that tells you… keep. going…

you have to keep going. there are wilder sunsets and more colors to know.

you have to keep going.
there are wilder sunsets and more colors
to know. and there are still answers for what’s
pulling at you. and i think you have to chase them…
i think you have to keep going.

– butterflies rising

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a fire in that kiss…

a fire in that kiss that always came from your own lips

that kiss…
it’s a bitter taste now.
and god, how it felt like love,
and then it turned into
such. brutal. pain.
but you make sure you
keep loving deep.
and keep your heart wilder than wild,
because someday you’ll breathe it
all out as stardust and art…
and there was a fire in that kiss
that always came from
your own lips.

– butterflies rising

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without a fight…

...let me fall madly for me first.

beautiful…
the way you say it,
how it feels. too. good.
like quenching thirst on my skin.
how i feel too desperate to hear it…
but how i can’t let it stay because
i’m too unsure to hold it.
so please…
don’t say it.
i want to have heard it enough in
my own voice that i don’t need you to say it…
but, also… so that when you do…
i can let it fall on me without a fight

…let me fall madly for me first.

– butterflies rising

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for so long i thought if i could just become. enough. that it would be enough…

for so long i thought if i could just become. enough. that it would be enough for him to be good to me

for so long
i thought if i could just become. enough.
that it would be enough for him to be good to me
until i finally realized that wasn’t what he wanted.

he wanted me to be pretty enough
to be beautiful in his eyes,
but my eyes better not be too bright,
and that dress better not be too short,
and those lips better not be too full of lush and love
or talk of too much life for anyone else to see
something beautiful in me…
or heaven forbid,
for me to see something beautiful in myself.
and those dreams i had to find my voice and to spill
all the wild from my heart out into the world…
if i was chasing those dreams,
then i wouldn’t be small enough or sitting still enough as
the sure thing there waiting while he was chasing his.
the more i tried to be. enough. the more i became too much.

because underneath all the ways he needed me to be small,
“enough” is what he felt like he wasn’t.

– butterflies rising

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