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Lost Myself.... I am only human This is a human who stands in their own, aftermath, realizing breaking wasn't the End was the beginning. I thought losing me was for sure the ending the quietness after the storm, like tying the knot was it. Somewhere, my name would echo in the background. Allowing my skin to bleed, eyes to fill, body, to tremble. But it was the start. The start to seeing self without the loud noise, without the weight of who I once knew. Pain showed me the reflection while my reflection showed me how to evolve into evolution and, Evolution shows me how strong gravity could be. With scripted versions of me, finding the good While we know it is God's plan. So, when I speak, it's loud like thunder breathing nothing but truth, Walking with my head up, Standing taller than the mountains. I thought it was the end. But I overcame what life wanted to do with me. I fought hard because I wanted better. I opened my eyes to something better, a life worth living. Finding power in my own becoming, blooming Like a butterfly longing for my wings to fly high. No longer standing and begging for acceptance. But accepting me for me. Loving me. Believing in me Having faith in me Seeing who I am Not what the world wants me to be. In my mind, living in the land of the free. Joining my family, The Art Of Poetry While letting my words run free. As we are all caught up in what life tends to turn us into We have to find peace in ourselves. Don't allow self to be in anyone's shadow. Follow your own path Empower self Love self Discipline self Trust self Meditate and Manifest. This will never be the end...... By Delleesa Harris 6/15/26

Gatherer Here part #3 Gatherer Here.... Gatherer Here, Apply that pressure, rise because you want to shine While the words don't save you, they stick to you. Gatherer, here because here is where you belong. Allowing the words to be your mirror showing, all wounds that are ready to be healed Are you ready? Gatherer Here..... Stop pretending that you are tougher than the grease stuck The stove. But you are, that's why you read and write these poems. Once you Gatherer Here .... You stop crying Start living Stop shaking Stop asking why me? Live in your truth You stop living in pain Because once you're gathered here, you realize you are able to live with your pain. Because it became something you knew how to tame, control, Concore. Do you finally see why we gather here? Because sometimes we need other people's pain to heal our pain, to wipe our mirrors so we can finally see clearly why we Gatherer Here.... Art of Poetry Don't call this the end It's the start of a beautiful beginning that keeps on winning Delleesa Harris 6/15/26

Gather Here part #2 Gather Here...... Where all your words spill out like a confession Do my lines meet your satisfaction? Or are they just lines that banged the ones who, are cadge like animals waiting for a mental, break? Gatherer Here.... Where poetry does not bend the rules, no confetti, but bruised like a beautiful blooming flower, No decorations, just confessions. Gatherer Here while my words feel like a hot cup of, tea the one you melt the hall in that allows you to, breathe. Gatherer here with your unfinished healing as I heal the wounds of poison ivy, as I pass my words out like candy. Gatherer Here..... Where the truth hurts, But where the healing begins Where life refuses to die in the dark Gatherer Here Where the light shines, and the stars glow to guide you, at night. Gatherer Here... Where you find love, hope, and life the language of hope that learns to survive. Gatherer Here and allow all your words to hit the line Allow all your worries to fly high into the sky. Allow the fire to burn while you walk through it Gather here and allow your words to turn into freedom Gatherer Here.... Delleesa Harris 6/15/26

He said Gather around, everyone These will be the last words make it raw, make it heavy Make it something to remember. Gather here.... where my ink still bleeds beyond the pen where my paper never folds and my words never get old. Gather here, I have been writing like it's my duty for survival or every line I write could save a life or maybe just remind them that it is always a reason to still breathe. There is nothing weak about poetry It's like the whispers of thirds person in your ear. We gather here because we refuse to Stop allowing our thoughts to be read. Turning poetry into prayer, we gather here while the words play like music, And our fingers move with rhythm. If these are my last words, allow them to rise by the moon. crack the circulation of heavy allow my Words to be loud and steady. Rise like gun smoke, it is always hot But ready. Gather here, and remember We all write to express to inhale, exhale To breathe again, to awaken To find inner peace To show love To evolve Deflect Relive stress Reflect Don't forget to manifest Delleesa D Harris 6/14/26