Once too often, The skin has disgust, for it was flawless, "How could you allow it to happen"? Temperamental bouts of severe itching, "I am so sorry skin, I was just too afraid," Like demons they attack my vulnerability, "Stop rocking yourself, useless, worthless, good for nothing," A person who starts to despise her humanness, Hands that cupped the face, Viciously grabbed a kitchen knife, The Nervous System in a frenzy, Watch beeps heart rate at 130+ beats a minute, "Oh! Lord, help me, I cannot take anymore, shrieking, I punish myself every day for the weakling I have become." Its too late, River of blood patterns the white plush, Bloodied fingerprints make a getaway, "Was I not worthy or good enough to be loved," "Not pretty or intelligent, or tall enough," The Inner Healer gently spoke "Dear one keep you eyes open," White soft feathery wings appeared, Archangel Michael lifted the terrfied and exhausted shell, comforting and nurturing, His gown carried the blood of an innocent, "Beloved child its time to return home." WRITTEN BY ASCENDING UNIVERSAL BUTTERFLY 🦋🦋🦋🦋

You are not the worst thing you have ever done. You are not the mistakes that keep you awake at night. You are not the broken promises, the shattered relationships, or the battles no one else could see. You are something far greater. You are a person who has survived days you never thought you would make it through. That matters. Somewhere beneath the hurt, beneath the anger, beneath the fear, there is still a spark that refuses to go out. Protect it. Feed it. Believe in it, even when belief feels impossible. There will be days when taking one more step feels like climbing a mountain. Take it anyway. There will be moments when your past tries to convince you it owns your future. Don't believe it. Your story has not been written to its final page. There are chapters you haven't lived yet. People you haven't met. Dreams you haven't dared to dream. Laughter that hasn't found you. Peace that hasn't reached you. The world has enough people who have given up. Be the one who didn't. One day, someone else will be searching for hope. And they'll find it because you kept going. By Jason Strickland

April fools, we played. No rules Always fun, you'd chase, i'd run Here comes Easter! So much joy I a girl in a pretty dress. You a boy in a suit,always perfect .. no less April showers and pretty coloured flowers Daisy chains occupied our minds for hours So thankyou April for the memories you gave For the flowers for the showers April fools, we played, no rules @Melissa Poetrylpls ©️ I own all rights to this poem

Working, working all week long Earning , yearning wanting more Buy a house, buy a car Satisfied at what has been achieved Working working all week long Nothing on this world is truly ever yours. You can buy, you can own Still, nothing is ever really yours. So when your working all week long Earning yearning wanting more Money does not make you rich. We have air for our lungs Water to drink We can grow our own food We have sunshine and sunsets Mountains and meadows That's what makes us rich How long will take you? How long until. You wake up and see? When will you find yourself, find yourself and you will see @Melissa Poetrylpls ©️ Needs.work I was bord hajaha

The air is Quiet, Distant sounds Of voices And children Playing. Her skin Is warm Under my Touch. My hand Gently rests On her thigh, Her leg Across mine. She’s talking About some Things On her phone, But my mind Wanders off. To the way Her hair Frames her face In soft waves. To the way She’s talking So passionately. To the way Her eyes Light up And her Lips Curve into A smile. I know I should be Listening To her Instead of Staring At her. But I can’t Help myself. She’s just So goddamn Beautiful That it’s hard To look Away For even A second. I don’t think She’s noticed The way My gaze Only went To her phone When she Showed me Something And expected A reaction. She deserved My attention. And she had All of it. Just… Not for The reason She thought.