my way of asking for your forevers…

i can’t say them.
i can’t say those three words.

i can’t say it in three words…
i can’t speak these things small.
i don’t feel these things ordinary.
and i can’t look at you and feel. these. things.
and fit them into predetermined patterns
and pre-ordered packages,
or practice how to speak them
in a rented ballroom,
or repeat them as a morning habit…
these are star things, and soul things,
and all of my everything, things…
so when you say…
do you, will you?
i do, and i will
but out here where it’s wild,
and up here where it’s infinite,
and in me where i feel you,
where i’ve always. felt. you…
even before this. and where i’ll feel you
after this, and beyond this…

so what i can’t say means nothing.
and it means everything.

and what i mean when i say to you…
burn out the stars with me

…that’s my way of asking for your forevers.

– butterflies rising

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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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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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self-sovereignty…

become a more beautiful, whole, confident version of you

don’t look for your
peace in getting back at them,
or trying to make them see your worth
and what they lost in you…

go more into yourself.
become a more beautiful, whole,
confident version of you…
one that doesn’t need anything
from them to feel free.

– self-sovereignty

– butterflies rising

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