it’s time to come home…

that person whose
broken pieces fit into
your broken pieces isn’t the one

they may keep the bed warm,
but they’re keeping you from whole…
just pretending that being broken
feels like home

and you can only romanticize bad
habits for so long,
before the ache to yourself
calls you home

– butterflies rising

that place
on the back of his neck
where my fingers fall
when my arms are wrapped around him
…that place.

details,
i love madly in
details

– butterflies rising

Drive…

you used to
drive me everywhere,
and nowhere, for hours,
just so we could talk
about everything, and nothing,
for what felt like forever…

but then you drove this nowhere,
and you left nothing

– butterflies rising

i write it out, not to remember you, but to take it away from you

and when
i write this out,
this isn’t to remember you…
it’s to take it away
from you,
i’ll take all these feelings i felt
and i’ll make art,
i’ll make something beautiful,
i’ll make something new

– the alchemy in poetry

– butterflies rising

we have the same kind of
stardust in our souls

– butterflies rising

may what you offer my heart
when we start
this dream
be evergreen
and expand
may no promise
rescind
with the wind
or time
may all you say is mine
be mine
…forever

– butterflies rising

our own voice inside of us, and our own light to guide us

we cannot
carry another
on their own way…
in soul searching,
we must all find
our own legs beneath us,
our own voice inside of us,
and our own
light to guide us.

– butterflies rising