soulmate stardust…

i think we find our soulmates in the places we go to find our souls

soulmate stardust…

the universe puts
little bits of stardust in them;
memory dust… soul traces…
so we can know.
ones that say things like…
i remember you.
i’ve been looking for you.
i couldn’t come here and
not find you… i had to find you.
i am for you.
and when we’re near them,
they don’t have to say a thing;
we feel it in our senses…
we just know.

– butterflies rising

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we find our soulmates in the places we go to find our souls…

i think we find our soulmates in the places we go to find our souls

where we are drawn and pulled. and when we are shifted and stirred. in what makes us feel. and feel alive. or feel understood, like outstretched hands and lifelines, like home. in our self-searching, where we feel soul memory. or in the inspiration touches and in what feels like free and brings us wide-lung breathing. and in our fire-catching and lightning-chasing, they meet us there with sparks. where we light-find and heart-reach or lose breath and dream wild… i think we find our soulmates in the places we go to find our souls.

– butterflies rising

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i’ve got dreams… ones that are drenched in art and taste like adventure…

i've got dreams... ones that are drenched in art and taste like adventure

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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aren’t even mine…

it’s one of the darkest feelings i’ve ever known... unworthy.  and maybe i want to learn to start questioning it

it’s one of the darkest feelings
i’ve ever known… unworthy.

and maybe i want to learn to start
questioning it when i feel it.
like… is it always even mine?

because if it’s from someone else…
someone else’s unkindness, or judgment,
or their own unworthiness they’re projecting…
then i want to learn to say no.

i think maybe my own battles would get a little
easier to face if i wasn’t also fighting the
ones that aren’t even mine.

– butterflies rising

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to see herself in the way that she looks at flowers…

like she's a beautiful wildness on fire - butterflies rising

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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