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“it's so delicate here. but it's where i'm the most brutal. it's where my raging gets careless, and the delicate things end up crushed. i fight my hardest fights trying to love the deepest love, but i've never been more unkind than i've been in these close quarters …in this head, and to this heart. and when others have been unkind, how quick i've been to betray myself and just agree. and i've let it all hurt so much that unworthy has felt like the only feeling i may ever again know… like a flower whose every last petal has been torn away and thrown to the wind with nothing left to recognize as beautiful. just wilted. and bare with pain. but what if it hurts this way for a reason… because that ache in me is the fight in me to learn to feel different. because somewhere deep inside i know that i want to be delicate here… desperately. and when they're unkind, and when i'm unkind, somewhere deep down, i know that i fiercely. disagree. and there's a wild blossom in me and it's too beautiful to ever just be torn away and thrown to the wind. and there's a tenderness that i'm made of and an intimacy that i'm part of… one that i'm going to learn to take such delicate care of.” — butterflies rising