Tag: Self Esteem

the sweet and wild rebellion in you…

the poetry in those eyes... those dreamer's eyes learning to see in the dark.

the sweet and wild rebellion in you…

the poetry
in those eyes…
those dreamer’s eyes
learning to see in the dark.
and all that beautiful madness
tangled in your hair.
toes dangling over the edge,
testing a new universe.
it’s ok to take small steps and deep breaths, love…
but also, let yourself start to take up your space.
and don’t you dare say you’re sorry when you do.
and you’ll be rejected for these wings, these fires,
for this sweet and wild rebellion in you.
but these are such. beautiful. things.
so keep choosing you…
because nothing will matter if you reject you.

if it needs you small, don’t let it hold you anymore.
don’t let anything that needs you
ordinary tame you ever again.

– butterflies rising

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from over here, love looks so sweet. but… so. terrifying…

and i'm still learning how to be mine

from over here,
love looks so sweet.
but… so. terrifying.
because i don’t yet know how.
how to be so close to someone and not
crumble into a wild mess of love
where i lose me.
the last time i got close…
my god, how i lost me.
so much that i could barely feel me. or hear me.
and it’s the deepest ache i’ve ever known
when i can’t feel me.
so i’m still learning… how not to dim
and quiet and run and hide and tame me.
how to hold my own fire even when
my heart catches fire.
how to hold on so tight to my own depths
that even when i’m tangled deep in you…
i’m still always mine…

and i’m still learning how to be mine.

– butterflies rising

– butterflies rising

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for so long i thought if i could just become. enough. that it would be enough…

for so long i thought if i could just become. enough. that it would be enough for him to be good to me

for so long
i thought if i could just become. enough.
that it would be enough for him to be good to me
until i finally realized that wasn’t what he wanted.

he wanted me to be pretty enough
to be beautiful in his eyes,
but my eyes better not be too bright,
and that dress better not be too short,
and those lips better not be too full of lush and love
or talk of too much life for anyone else to see
something beautiful in me…
or heaven forbid,
for me to see something beautiful in myself.
and those dreams i had to find my voice and to spill
all the wild from my heart out into the world…
if i was chasing those dreams,
then i wouldn’t be small enough or sitting still enough as
the sure thing there waiting while he was chasing his.
the more i tried to be. enough. the more i became too much.

because underneath all the ways he needed me to be small,
“enough” is what he felt like he wasn’t.

– butterflies rising

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