Beautiful Things ~ Beautiful Words

Wounded Butterfly is a beautifully woven tale of one woman's journey

into, through, and out of the terrors of abuse. Margie Watts uses a unique combination of poetry, prose, and deep heart felt thoughts to tell her story of survival. Each page is filled with emotional moments throughout her life. Every word within Wounded Butterfly is a another piece of Margie Watts souf-gripping truth. Her raw writing style creates a spiritual view of the realities of abuse and her passionate need to survive.

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Wounded Butterfly

The minute I try and open my heart back up, I quickly realize I should never trust anyone ever again.

~ Margie Watts ©

𝑺𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘

What is sorrow? It can mean so many different things to some people. The loss of a loved one. A connection with another person. A lost love. The sorrow of heartbreak.

I think most people are afraid to speak about the most heartbreaking of all; the sorrow of the Soul.

It starts out slowly. Being filled with childhood memories to awful to remember. Teenage years. Until you are an adult looking back wondering, was that really love? And you slowly realize. Sorrow, is giving them the key to destroy you.

~ Margie Watts ©

Bruises on My Heart

She sits alone in the darkness. So many times she had promised herself she would never go back. But this time was different. She no longer believed in the light. She had opened her heart to many. Those she believed she could trust with her gift. But there were those who were good at hiding their true feelings. They trampled all over her heart making her believe it was her fault. Putting thoughts in her fragile mind. Until she could take it no more. The bruises on her heart lead her back into the darkness. At least here alone, her heart was safe once again.

~ Margie Watts ©

Bec❤️‍🩹ming Me

Just when you think that you have no more tears, memories come back to the surface and sadness creeps in.

The Little Girl

As I stood in the shadows. I watched the little girl. Quietly she sat there. I wonder if she would listen if I tried to talk to her. Try to reassure her that life doesn't always stay in this moment. That there will be moments of happiness. That not everyone she meets will be a monster. That she, even if she doesn't believe it now, will survive what life throws her way. But I know it's too late, the seeds of darkness have already been planted in her soul. The sadness of her heart was already in her eyes. Sadly, her innocence had already been stolen and she was already lost. She would be one of those lonely souls forever searching for her way home, a journey she had to walk alone.

As I continue to watch her, wiping the tears from my cheeks, it is then I realized, the little girl was me and I was reliving a memory.

~ Margie Watts ©

From my book

Wounded Butterfly

Anatomy of a Broken Heart

There are moments when it seems time moves in slow motion. When life and time conspire together to make sure you remember every detail of the memory that is about to be created. Then it happens, that sorrow filled sound from your throat. The crack of your voice when you are on the verge of crying. The feeling as if all the air has been pulled out of your lungs. The unsteadiness you feel but you are sitting down. Then you realize, it is at that very moment, you can actually feel your heart break. What has taken but a moment in time feels like an eternity and nothing after that moment feels the same ever again.

~ Margie Watts ©

Wounded Butterfly

As I cover my battered and bruised body with my wounded wings. I listen to the raging storm that is you. The thunder of your voice howling in anger. The lightening of your hands as they hit the softness of my skin. Silently I whisper to myself, "please let the storm calm." Finally there is quiet, the storm has passed. I have survived the storm, once again.

~ Margie Watts ©

From my book

Wounded Butterfly

Each of us have a story. A heartbreak we are carrying in the confines of our hearts. Some of us share them but some of us keep them locked away. Sharing comes in different ways, mostly in the writings we share. Each letter a piece of our soul, until it becomes a portion of ourselves. The ink may be black, blue or any color we choose but what we see is our life's blood. Every drop precious, just as precious as each piece of our soul. It is our life, our soul, it is us. This is the essence of the writer, their soul. The gift we give to the world.

~ Margie Watts ©