what you have…
it isn’t here yet.
what you hold, what you are,
it’s why you’re here.
maybe you create, or shift and change,
or just love in a way this world doesn’t know yet.
whatever that light is… it’s your work here.
those things you feel in you
but don’t yet see,
you’re meant to breathe them
into being.
– lightwork
– butterflies rising
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maybe sometimes
we’re delicate, and unsure,
and we don’t know what we’re ready to want,
so all that we’re really looking for
are people with good intentions towards us…
hoping for gentle in the unknown
– butterflies rising
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i need the grace of it,
this honesty within myself,
so it has to be a home…
even if you might not be careful here.
– vulnerability
– butterflies rising
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just because
benevolence
and butterflies
linger on your tongue,
it does not mean
your voice cannot be
a revolution
– butterflies rising
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just because
benevolence
and butterflies
linger on your tongue,
it does not mean
your voice cannot be
a revolution
– soft-spoken girls
– butterflies rising
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on forced forgiveness…
not everything finds peace through
forgiveness. it just doesn’t. and trying to force
something you don’t authentically feel can
not only keep you from healing, but it can also
be a reinjury to your spirit.
sometimes you just feel it in you,
how forgiveness is asking too much of you,
and it’s not because you’re holding on, it’s because
sometimes the burden of that shift,
that closure, that resolution, it isn’t your work.
it’s the other person’s energy to move, and you cannot
move energy for others.
with those things, let it be ok that all they ask of you
is to breathe through and release.
– butterflies rising
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i have to learn
to feel good
in my own
before it
can feel good
to be next
to someone else’s
– skin
– butterflies rising
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and you ask me…
how will i know it’s him
when he comes along?
i’ll know it’s him
by the way he walks in
wearing respect like a nice suit
and holding that
take. it. slow. magic.
with his self-love, self-required,
just radiating liberation from old men’s tales,
and because…
before he lets me love him…
it will matter that i love myself.
– butterflies rising
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