
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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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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why would
we ever ask each other
to come out from our corners
of self-safety
and crumble down our walls
for anything that wouldn’t
be as true and deep
and beautifully wild
and as gutted open and as
raging as to be living, breathing
thunderstorms in each other’s arms,
tracing our fingers through starlight…
why would i move
when i’m this. terrified. to move.
so if you’re going to ask me
to shed away my safety
…let it be for everything beautiful
imaginable under god.
– butterflies rising
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what if the raging inside of you is something beautiful…
your curiosity stretching and your soul stirring
– butterflies rising
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…maybe it’s brutal when you have to let it fall from your hands, but god, how beautiful it feels while you’re holding it.
– butterflies rising
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maybe
it tangles with chaos
and loses hold of safe and sane…
but that kind of love will be like wildfire.
and the way they touch you
will feel like wildfire.
and your heart…
it will take everything in like it’s on fire.
and it may be heavy on your soul when it breaks you,
but only because you burned so deep for it.
maybe it’s brutal when you have to let it
fall from your hands,
but god, how beautiful it feels
while you’re holding it.
– butterflies rising
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maybe tonight
we just dissolve into the stars…
leaving gravity behind,
quieting our heads and trading
all our dreams and curiosities
between soul and skin.
i just. get. restless.
and i can’t stay too human
for too long… it’s too heavy.
i need to leave the atmosphere,
or pull your soul aesthetic closer;
close enough to taste moon dust
in the back of my throat.
and whether we actually transcend
or just lose all sense…
i don’t care.
let’s break open and
scatter and spill and spill…
our wild universes
colliding under these stars.
– butterflies rising
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