Tag: Love

my way of asking for your forevers…

those three words…
i can’t say those three. little. words.

because…
i can’t say it in three words.
i can’t speak these things small because
i don’t feel these things ordinary.
i can’t look at you and
feel. all. these. things.
and try to fit them into predetermined
patterns or say them to you like
some sort of easy habit;
these things that i feel are star things
and soul things
and all of my everything, things.
so when you ask…
“do 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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the closest heartbeat…

sometimes,
we just can’t come close
and not get hurt.
this life,
it can be so hard for lovers here.
our hearts hidden in heavy
human stories,
our hearts wrapped up
in so much hurt.
and you bruise each other at the touch.
and you both go a little mad along the way.
so what you feel…
it has to live somewhere in those soul places.
and how you love,
it’s in distant heartbeats.
and how you hope, my god
how you hope
that maybe, just maybe,
there is some other way,
in some softer place, in some kinder time
where you find a way to break. through.
and you can unbreak yourselves
and unbreak your hearts
and you can unfold into love
and they can fall into you
and you can feel them in the
closest heartbeat.

– butterflies rising

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in his sleep…

the way he speaks of me in his sleep

there are
things he holds
close, in the awake,
in the lucid,
things he feels, but he fears
how they might fall out so helpless,
so unarmed, so defenseless…
and god, how those walls
can make me question.

but then he dreams with an open chest,
and he tells me of what he’s sure of,
and that i can let my head rest,
‘cause this isn’t a small love,
and that most times it feels like too much love,
and so sometimes… he’s just afraid.

so my fears… they just fall quiet
with the way he speaks to me
in his sleep.

he may have a
hardened chest in the wake light,
but there are flowers in the moonlight,
and when his fears fall quiet…
there are all these things he feels
when his defenses are down.

– butterflies rising

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