…bare skin in sunshine,
wild under moonshine
– 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 →beautiful…
the way you say it,
how it feels. too. good.
like quenching thirst on my skin.
how i feel too desperate to hear it…
but how i can’t let it stay because
i’m too unsure to hold it.
so please…
don’t say it.
i want to have heard it enough in
my own voice that i don’t need you to say it…
but, also… so that when you do…
i can let it fall on me without a fight
…let me fall madly for me first.
– 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 →love languages…
blood + fire… the wild. the passionate.
the visceral things that burn in your veins,
that bite at your senses, that give you a pulse
sugar + flowers… the sweet. the soft.
the vulnerable things that tender the walls
and break your heart open
love + soul… the deep. the true. the heart.
the lungs. the breathing. the wings. the free…
the things you ache for… and the ones that ache back
magic + stars… the infinite. the destined.
the things you feel beyond words, beyond bodies,
beyond… before… after… always.
– butterflies rising
Read More →…the kind of eyes that mean what they say when they say all those things that eyes say
– butterflies rising
Read More →