give me
the tender and the fire.
i want the angst and ache
and wild mess.
all of it broken open,
nothing less.
because there’s just nothing else
that can disarm me like that.
it completely takes me apart…
a man’s passion and
raw vulnerability,
the stretching of his heart walls
and all those flowers growing
from his chest.
– butterflies rising
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give me
your tender and your fire…
all of it broken open, nothing less.
the stretching of your heart walls and all those
flowers growing from your chest.
– butterflies rising
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give me your tender and your fire. your angst
and ache and wild mess. all of it broken open,
nothing less. i want passion and raw vulnerability…
the stretching of your heart walls and all those
flowers growing from your chest.
– butterflies rising
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you’re out there
and i’m here wishing i could
reach for you as easy
as a star could cross a sky…
just fall across your chest
and feel it all again.
your way of settling my madness with
that soft… slow… “baby” late at night,
and how you feel like everything beautiful
i can’t make sense of.
it’s a dangerously pretty edge
when you’re here,
but there’s a wild ache when you’re not,
and my axis pulls and pulls to
wherever you are.
i still feel you, and i miss you
and i miss you…
you are the sweetest feeling i know.
– butterflies rising
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i hope
you can hear this…
when your soul is suffocating
from all the things you just. can’t. say.
as they chew at your chest,
and you ache and crumble
until you become nothing
but mess and madness
gutted. on the floor.
and in the dark. and it’s so. dark.
that even the moon hides and the stars
go quiet and anything that ever
sounded like a way out just. goes. quiet.
i hope you hear this… it’s been so. damn. hard.
but you’ve been so brave.
– butterflies rising
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i take it all in so deeply.
and maybe i feel it a little too raw.
and a little too tender.
and when i need to let it go,
maybe my heart strangleholds it
a little too tight.
and for a little too long.
but the way i feel it when i feel it…
i touch. and i taste. and i feel. fire.
and i shift in my existence,
and the stardust burns into my skin.
so i try to be gentle with it…
with all that wild wreckage that i
barely recover from.
because there’s magic in it.
and evolution in me from it.
and because i love like an awakening
and i know what it’s like to trace a soul
in my fingertips.
– butterflies rising
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