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Quote by butterflies rising

“this world can feel so harsh and ugly to you because you are so soft and vulnerable and beautiful… like flowers. now imagine this world without flowers. so please let yourself be something in this world that is soft and vulnerable and beautiful, just like flowers.”

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butterflies rising

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“aching to touch stars… i hope you keep it close… no matter what. if it's imprinted on you, like soul memory, then i hope you keep it so. close. and that you hold on tight no matter what. there will be little traces of someday in the not-quite-yet, and i hope you feel them. and that you can find a way to trust them. even if weary sets in and uncertain gets loud, i hope you can be gentle with that doubt. and that something in you knows that it will pass. and that it doesn't mean give up. i hope you never truly feel give-up. but if you do, then i hope that some. how. that the fight in you finds its teeth and that heart of yours finds its fire and that you can reach deep down into that part of you that is aching to touch stars and just find a way to stay dreaming no. matter. what. i hope you can hold on and hold on and hold on… until you can feel every last bit of your hope holding you right back.”

Butterflies Rising
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“she's a wildflower on fire with all that sweet soul sugar and an ache inside to unfold and to grow into so much more, all that destiny written in her eyes, she’s wild butterflies, and she feels her heart pulled under the wild of the moon to face her fears and to find her way through all of the dark and the heavy that she's carried for so long… there's fight here, but there's surrender here too. and there could be so much freedom here if she could just let herself fall into that beautiful chaos and dig deep into that passion in her bones… she could uncover all the beautiful things that those wildfires inside of her hold.”

Butterflies Rising
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“when i get close, and when i let walls fall… i become a wild mess. and i get fully disarmed. i just wildflower open… soft. vulnerable. and i become such an easy mark for the way that forever is such a pretty word off the corner of your smile… and god, how it feels like the sweetest. thing. and i swear it… that stars shine brighter, and skin feels even softer, and songs sink in a little deeper, and the words are the sweetest. sugar. and they mean ten times, a hundred times, all the times more… and i feel it all like lightning and soul-imprint in my marrow. and it's beautiful. and it's terrifying. because my safe space… is in the wild open, where there's growing space and soul-searching space, and where my fire is bright and my wings are wide and my breathing is all its own and i can always feel the way my heart beats on its own… with me over here. and you over there. and i don't know if my heart will ever settle it… the way everything is more beautiful when i'm in love, but i feel so much stronger when i'm not.”

Butterflies Rising
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“i didn’t know it for most of my growing up… but my mama had dreams. dreams that weren’t of ring shapes and dress colors. she had dreams that were drenched in art and tasted like adventure… ones that felt like being kissed until her heart burst… ones that opened up her whole soul like a wildflower on fire. but i didn’t know it. i didn’t know it because she tucked them away in pretty memory boxes and hid them in tattered journals that she pushed aside for perfectly-scripted scrapbooks, and she buried all her burning desires under yes ma’ams and sunday dresses and sweet, supportive smiles, while any part of her that ever maybe might could’ve known that she mattered… by herself, for herself, and belonging. to. herself. suffocated quietly under the white noise of all those voices that had told her that all that really mattered was that she had been chosen… by him. and when i started to see that inside of her was a whole other woman that she ached to be… i knew i couldn’t go through my life aching for the me i’d never be, in that same way. so all i’ve ever wanted… is to know that i matter. by myself. for myself. and belonging to myself. chosen by no one, but me.”

Butterflies RisingWild Spirit Soft Heart
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