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Untitled Rambles

I feel sick. Again. Not in control. Again.

Shaken, misplaced, irregular

I have all the words ready to spew out from my faucet,

But they won’t come out, not right now,

And not right. Just jumbled word vomit that smells like grief, aching, and anxiety.

My insides feel all torn up.

All messed up.

Just like my mind.

I’m currently trying to find out if I’m even alive.

This stupid ringing in my ear,

This stupid voice in my head,

This stupid way that I look at him.

Pushing my feelings aside. No longer shoving them down his throat, just my fingers that he loves to suck.

My body that he loves to touch.

My body that is hard for me to touch.

Looking around to see others wanting me but I’m not sure if I even want myself anymore.

Cause he used to want me in a way that made my heart fucking flutter. He used to want me in a way that proclaimed love was real.

I promised to put myself first.

I promised to love myself.

I used to put myself first.

I used to love myself more than I loved anyone else.

I met him and fell down a landslide.

Is it me wanting to get pleasure because it’s so easily accessible, or is it me wanting to get pleasure to erase those feelings, to take me to an out-of-body experience, to just make my brain empty and my body full? I want to be loved, and I want to be cared for. By him. But it’s not possible, not right now, perhaps not ever, just not in the way that I love and care for him. So I’m putting myself first. I will be organized, I will be on time, I will take my medication, I will make my bed and do yoga and see friends. I will have sex for pleasure and to fill that void. I believe that love just isn’t on the menu for me right now. Not right now. I know it will come, I vow it too. But I stop my beckoning. I hold off on the searching and the begging. I’m young. It’s about me.

Briefly Write

N Judah St.

by Lu Knight. Issue 10 (March 2023).

Hey friends, I’m Lu and I’m a creative writer. I use she/her and they/them pronouns and I am 21.

I’ve been writing stories and poems since I learned how to write and before that I would doodle tales of purple dogs. I always knew that I wanted to be a published author so I could share my stories with everyone, I’ve always dreamt of seeing my novel on a shelf among the greats! My strengths in writing are: world-building, flowery details, and character building. My weaknesses are: grammar, dialogue and a bit of plot building.

Thanks to Briefly Write publishing my first micro story, I am one step closer to reaching my dream!

A little bit more about me: I am a student at Appalachian State University studying creative writing, just existing in the mountains. I love to read, take naps, go hiking, thrifting, listening to murder podcasts. I’m also a big foodie but I don’t know how to cook, hopefully in the future I’ll get better at it. My favorite animals are koalas and bunnies. I have a dog named Maggie, I’ve had her since I was in 5th grade. I have a bunny named Jeffery, he’s a rascal.

My WIPS are: The Hidden Odyssey and Colors of Emotions. I also have some short stories in the works.

I hope that you like what I create and I hope we can be friends!

In this dream, you are in a pit.

It surrounds you in pitch black.

Its mouth swallows you whole.

Effortlessly, you sat comfortably in your hole, like it had a hold on you

You sometimes climb, but then you fall like you had no care at all, then you try and try again but only get stuck with your feet buried in the sand.

You are in this constant battle with yourself

while a blindfold covers your eyes tightly

I wish you could see what you mean to me

There’s a snake in the pit that grasps on to you

day by day you decline my desires

my desire for you to reach out, my desire for you to hold on

the stench of dirt that covers you from head to toe and your brown eyes that fight to stay open

they blink and blink with the strength of a human

Please don’t let go.

don’t let go of the red balloon

Writeblr Intro ⚠️Sporadic Updates⚠️

Hello everyone! This is my new intro for my writeblr~

To everyone new to my blog, I am lyuten, I am a 23 yo (extremely tired and done) university student, that has been writing for about 10 years now. I am hoping to be able to self publish my books in 2024, and most of all have a good time here with all of you 🤍

I won't be uploading anything on wattpad for now, so all of my wips will be exclusively here. My update schedule is extremely sporadic, since real life is being a b*tch.

I have a LOT of wips in mind and I get bored way too easily, but I will try to be as diligent as possible🤍

For anyone interested in reading ACOD which I will continue sometime in the near future, head to my old blog intro here, where I have the links to every chapter.

My new wip that I haven't started writing yet, Lily of Hiraeth, you can find here, and the post containing links to every chapter here (coming soon).

BOTH ACOD & LoH are 18+ and contain a lot of tws, so please read the warnings thoroughly.

I will not be working on anything else until ACOD & LoH are done, but a glimpse of any future wips will be here:

U.N.I.T.T. 137

You are all welcome to tag me in any game and ask me anything, when I have the time I will get to all of them❤️

. TREES

A bare witness, 

A bare wilderness

Naked but not free 

Been used from time and time again 

Taken for granted 

Tossed to the side when there’s nothing 

Left  Not even a thank you.

never related to authors being like "childhood is such a blessed innocent time", catch me with that jane eyre shit like "such dread as children only can feel" and "I then sat with my doll on my knee til the fire got low, glancing round occasionally to make sure nothing worse than myself haunted the shadowy room"

Again, they come running to my call of distress

only to burrow in my skin and call me delicate

their stinger falling off upon entry

They want to peel off each layer to watch it grow back shiny and new.

They choke for me as I swallow their marbles but they won’t bleed for me

won’t breathe for me

and my humming bird heart won’t sway

nor listen to what you have to say

won’t cry as you break my bones

So they are hazel.

The gleam in your eyes, the way the sun hits them, and 

Makes you shine. 

Your smile- 

It beams with life. 

I’d love to see you dance, to see your body fly. 

You say you can’t sing, and that you’d wish you took 

Singing lessons as a kid, 

But darling your voice is a river, and it flows and flows 

And flows, 

Sure, you’re not peaceful, my chaotic little sunshine, 

I love the way you toss and turn throughout the 

Night. You’re blindingly breathtaking. Every word that 

Leaves your mouth is passionately formed from your soul 

And mind. 

You’re a mess. 

Not to be cliche- but a beautiful mess. You astonish me 

With every move you make.

Your laughter is honey to my ears. 

You make me listen, and see peacefully for once. 

Dear hazel eyes,  please don’t leave my side. 

everyone: what's your goal in life?

me: to write a story so soul snatching, so gut wrenching and so devastatingly beautiful that it leaves you crying at 3am when you have a 8am lecture/shift and it inspires people to write entire essays, to write entire fanfics, mood boards and playlists based on it.

Just a girl, wrapped in a blanket, with the wind whistling and the rain storming outside, doing her research for her thesis, in a paratextual friendship with twenty-years-old Mary Shelley she will never know about because we are two centuries apart