sometimes
this world feels
like the heaviest place
that we could ever know,
and it aches just to breathe here.
but then i look around,
and there are all of these
beautiful things… sunlight,
goodness, stars… you.
– butterflies rising
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we can fall into others with so much intensity and gravity, but then, when it comes to ourselves, we can struggle just to find a simple acceptance. but what if self-love is so much more than just a tolerance of yourself. and what if the things that feel like they are just leaving you on your own are not, but they are asking you to learn to choose yourself… and to do it with the same kind of fierce and reckless passion that you have chosen others. and what if that’s what this part of your journey is for.
– butterflies rising
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we lose ourselves in the wild blush,
and the moment grips at us to stay. here.
where time is no matter, and our heartbeats
are everything… so stay. here.
and just feel this.
– butterflies rising
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she needs love like wildfire.
like forever fire. until every last
southern sun sets. till the stars burn out.
and to know her heart is finally safe…
with you.
– butterflies rising
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just you and me…
and that
up against the wall,
in the back seat,
under the stars,
lost in the moment while the rest
of the world fades away,
kind of kissing
– butterflies rising
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i’ve got dreams…
ones that are drenched in art
and taste like adventure…
ones that feel like
being kissed until my heart bursts…
ones that open up my whole soul
like a wildflower on fire.
– butterflies rising
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under the sun
is where her flowers bloom,
under the moon
is where her fires burn,
out in the wild
is where her spirit breathes…
she’s meant to be wild,
so beautifully wild.
– butterflies rising
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…the way we passionately love
someone else should be a way we
could love ourselves, too.
– butterflies rising
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she wanders
out in the flowers,
in the wild, where the breathing
is easy and free… because it’s where
the judgment goes quiet…
and everything beautiful is so untouched.
it’s just beautiful. and wild. and fearless.
and whether it grows into something more
or burns down and has to start again,
it just does… fearlessly.
beautifully. and wild.
so she wanders out where she
can learn to see herself that way;
to see herself in the way that she looks
at flowers… like she’s a beautiful
wildness on fire.
– butterflies rising
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