you’re made of flowers; how you bloom when there’s light on your skin…

let yourself feel all the ways you're made of flowers

i think you’re made
of flowers; how you bloom
when there’s light on your skin.
you feel all that fire in your soul,
and it’s. so. beautiful.
but keep letting the sweetness in.
let yourself feel the glow.
be gentle with your raging heart
and softer with your chaos.
you are a wild thing,
but you are such a tender thing…
so maybe let even a little more of
that gentle in with how you grow.
dig out from the dark what you need to
and burn down what you have to
but then let yourself light up.
let in a little more sweetness
and a little more glow…
and let yourself feel all the ways
you’re made of flowers.

– butterflies rising

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soul-tangled with you…

soul-tangled with you. you were an imprint here before we touched wild skin.

soul-tangled
with you.
you were an imprint here
before we touched wild skin.
you were a feeling. a sense.
and now
you’re an instinct. a gravity.
with. you.
my heart has no defense.
i feel chemicals with you.
my skin remembers you.
and when our bodies have to
untangle and let this life turn over
you’ll be just a feeling
and just a sense…
but only until
we’re skin to skin again.

– butterflies rising

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the wild wreckage…

i take it all in so deeply. and maybe i feel it a little too raw. and a little too tender

i take it all in so deeply.
and maybe i feel it a little too raw.
and a little too tender.
and when i need to let it go,
maybe my heart strangleholds it
a little too tight.
and for a little too long.
but the way i feel it when i feel it…
i touch. and i taste. and i feel. fire.
and i shift in my existence,
and the stardust burns into my skin.
so i try to be gentle with it…
with all that wild wreckage that i
barely recover from.
because there’s magic in it.
and evolution in me from it.
and because i love like an awakening
and i know what it’s like to trace a soul
in my fingertips.

– butterflies rising

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something a little bit like faith…

i will not take care of my fears today. i will not feed them or tend to them or give them any space. - butterflies rising

i will not
take care of my fears today.

i will not feed them or tend to them
or give them any space.

and if i do not take care of my fears today…
what i feel tomorrow might be something
a little bit like faith.

– butterflies rising

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