Misty Mountain Peaks
This is where I take my leave
And I am set free.
Poetry is my passion.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from Jessica Burby and writers in Poets and other communities.
They're in my head trying to drive me mad Is it revenge? Or just something I dreamt? Am I delusional I can't tell Reality is blending well
By Jessica Burby3 years ago in Poets
When I was younger, I didn't have the words 'Tomboy', they called me I said 'I am a boy' but still 'Tomboy', they called me
By Sapphire Ravenclaw6 days ago in Poets
This bird cannot love you Although She will screech when you come home She is a creature of comfort— Designed to mirror your energy
By Bride of Sound3 days ago in Poets
It ended like every other stupid idea. Badly, and alone. I’m researching digital confession ethics, he said. A tech ethicist. He gestured at floating data I couldn’t see then pulled out a physical notebook. Actual paper, fountain pen. He held it up like he was showing me scripture.
By Nicky Franklyabout 20 hours ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.