There was a room inside my chest no furniture, no light, just echoes of almosts and footsteps that never stayed. I tried to decorate it with people, hang pictures of promises on the walls, burn candles called maybe and this time he’ll love me right. But the wind kept blowing them out. That empty place ached like a hunger nothing human hands could feed. I called it loneliness. He called it space reserved. And when I finally stopped trying to rent it out to broken souls, God walked in not loud,not forceful, just holy. He didn’t shame me for the dust. Didn’t ask why I let strangers track mud across my heart. He just rolled up His sleeves and began restoring. He patched the cracks with grace. Painted the walls with peace. Hung forgiveness like curtains over windows I once boarded shut. Now when I breathe,it doesn’t echo. It sings. Now when I stand alone,I don’t feel abandoned I feel accompanied. That empty place was never meant for temporary love. It was built cathedral high so only something eternal could fit. And God slowly, tenderly is filling every corner of me. ~butterfly ~

This man done lost his rabbit mind, and I was out here losing mine trying to love somebody who never planned to change. I kept watering a dead tree wondering why it wouldn’t grow fruit. Kept praying over a heart that only beat for itself. He only cared about him. His ego. His pride. His reflection in the mirror. I was just something to hold when it was convenient. A body when he was lonely. A name when he needed comfort. A placeholder until the next distraction. He accused me of everything like guilt was his love language. If something went wrong, it was my fault. If something went missing, I did it. If the sky fell down, I probably pushed it. Never cared if I lost sleep. Never cared if I lost money. Never cared if I lost a roof over my head. As long as he didn’t lose control. And somehow I was always on his tail for asking what I need but only got the bare minimum respect. Security. Consistency. Every day felt like court. Every night felt like war. Jealousy dripping from his mouth like poison he swore was love. But love doesn’t feel like walking on glass. Love doesn’t feel like defending myself every hour. Love doesn’t make you shrink to survive it. He didn’t lose me. He never really had me. I was just trying to prove I was worthy to someone who wasn’t worthy of me. And the day I stopped begging for what should’ve been natural was the day I found my mind again. He lost his. But I’m getting back to me again. ~butterfly~

Let me talk to you. Yeah you and I’m even talking to myself as well.The one making excuses for a man who keeps making you feel small. He doesn’t hit you but he hits your mind. And somehow that hurt last longer. He mentally abuses you. Emotionally drains you.Then looks at you like you the problem. He accuse you of everything he guilty of. Make you question your memory. Make you question your tone. Make you question your sanity. And you sitting there like Maybe I am tripping No baby. You not tripping. You surviving.He don’t gotta put hands on you to put fear in you.All he gotta do is raise his voice. All he gotta do is go silent. All he gotta do is say I’m done so you start begging. When did you start begging for basic respect? When did love turn into walking on eggshells in your own house? You crying in the car.Driving in the rain.Arguing with yourself because he done twisted the story again. I won’t do it no more.I love you. I’m just stressed. But somehow you the only one stressed. You the only one losing sleep. You the only one losing weight. You the only one losing you. That honeymoon phase? It ended fast didn’t it? That man you met? He don’t live here no more. Now it’s jealousy. Now it’s control. Now it’s him checking your phone like you a child on parole. And you still calling it love? Love don’t feel like confusion. Love don’t feel like anxiety. Love don’t make you choose between your peace and your loyalty. He making you choose life or death in slow motion. And you still thinking if you love him harder he’ll change. Naw he will never it just keep on getting worser. Listen to me. A man that loves you doesn’t compete with you. Don’t belittle you. Don’t break you down then blame you for falling apart. You still got time. Time to pack your pride. Time to gather your strength.Time to remember who you was before he convinced you wasn’t enough. Don’t let the love you think is there blind you to the disrespect that is.

She’s better off single, not broken, not lonely Just chosen for silence where God speaks more boldly. Some hearts were distractions, some love came in chains,But heaven kept whispering there’s more to your name. She let go of hands that slowed down her climbing Because obedience costs comfort sometimes. Not everyone meant to walk where she’s going. Some were just lessons not part of the anointing. God’s calling her higher, away from the noise, Away from confusion disguised as a choice. She had to be still to hear Him say wait Purpose moves slow, but it never comes late. She’s single on purpose not lacking not small Just clearing the room for the weight of her call. What He’s building in her can’t live in between Half love and doubt and almosts and schemes. So if she walks alone let it be understood She’s not missing out she’s being renewed. God wouldn’t isolate her without a reason Elevation requires a different season. And when love finds he it’ll meet her aligned Not competing with God but honoring the divine. Until then, she stands steady, healed, and whole. Better off single, protecting her soul. 🕊️✨ ~butterfly ~

I keep loading chances into chambers that already know my name. Spin the cylinder anyway because hope has always been louder than fear. I place my heart on the table, felt still warm from the last loss, still beating like it doesn’t remember how close it came to stopping. Click. Another promise survives. I smile like I didn’t flinch. Click. Another red flag dressed as love. I tell myself, this time feels different. I’ve mastered the art of pretending that odds don’t apply to me, that faith alone can outshoot history, that my heart isn’t already scarred metal. But every pull leaves a bruise. Every near miss teaches my pulse how to brace for impact. Even silence sounds like a gunshot now. They say love is a risk but nobody warns you how addictive the adrenaline becomes when pain feels familiar. Still, I sit at the table. Not because I’m reckless but because part of me believes one chamber might finally hold peace. And maybe the bravest thing is knowing the danger,feeling the weight of the weapon,and one day choosing to set my heart down before it learns another way to bleed. ~butterfly ~