
poetry
in those eyes
and all that
beautiful madness
tangled in her
hair
– butterflies rising
Read More →poetry
in those eyes
and all that
beautiful madness
tangled in her
hair
– butterflies rising
Read More →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
Read More →to be such a soft thing…
and still let everything made of fire
run so wild in her veins
– butterflies rising
Read More →just let the chaos in you be beautiful…
you are such a soft and wild thing.
– butterflies rising
Read More →never again
let your heart settle.
never. again.
hold it close to anyone
who doesn’t see
your light-giving,
breath-stealing,
fire-starting magic…
or who sees it all,
and tries to hold you back.
never again.
– butterflies rising
Read More →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
Read More →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
Read More →