love me youngblooded and firehearted…

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

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love and wandering…

i just wildflower open... soft. vulnerable.

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 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

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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

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too full, too much…

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 out
the words and the wild
from my heart onto pages
and 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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just a little…

i can get a little reckless when my heart is restless

and maybe,
sometimes i back up
just a little,
just to breathe…
to steady in me.
and maybe, sometimes,
my fingers will untangle
just a little,
just to feel…
how to be mine, all mine.
and maybe,
i can get a little reckless
when my heart is restless,
but it’s still always yours,
all yours.

– butterflies rising

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