Whenever I get butterflies in my stomach…shyt seems to gets real.
Gripping onto the precipice of change.
My heart seems to stand still.
I try to walk in faith.
Many moments, I just wanted to shy away.
Every time I stayed…the butterflies always came.
More often than not, they’d gotten their way…stealing the show…running the stage.
Or so I thought.
I instinctively avoided everything that made my stomach knot.
Within this cycle…I’d forgotten
To fight for who I am.
I didn’t understand…
The flutters were not a warning,
Rather a helping hand.
A boost of fearful energy to get through it and withstand.
Whatever the thing may be..
Faith only grows from conquering fears over and over again.
Like metamorphosis we change.
The spiritual will never gain
If only our physical takes the reigns.
Through the longings and the pains
I continue to become the intention…
One upgrade after the next, a new invention.
Until it is finished.
Crawling on my belly,
Earning my wings
The butterfly effect is a mysterious thing.
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