Photo by Mark Basarab on Unsplash
Majestic mountain
Arising, a crisp dawn sings
bejewelled in snow
About the Creator
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More stories from Debby Miller and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Piggy Project
I’ve had so many names in this life I lose track of which ones were ever really mine and which ones I wore because someone needed me to. Some were handed to me before I had words to refuse them, before I knew what they meant, before I knew I could say no. Most weren’t meant to hurt. That doesn’t mean they didn’t leave marks. Marks that told me who I belong to, who I am by way of who claims me, recognizes me in the good and bad, who walks beside me.
By Fatal Serendipity2 days ago in Confessions
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