A writing sideblog

(Header image isnt mine) exactly what it says on the tin: this is my sideblog for posting stuff I write. I would very much appreciate feedback but pls BE HONEST. Ta x. ☺️😊❤️❤️

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

Hi 👋

Thanks for clicking on my blog - for whatever reason you're here.

This is my blog for stuff I write/old stuff I have written in the past. This is my way of trying to grow and develop as a writer so please please PLEASE - it would be amazing if you could let me know what you think of any of my stuff -

If you hate it, let me know.

If you love it (just hypothetically - that's rather unlikely 😂), that's great, let me know.

If you thought it was 'meh', let me know.

Srsly. I'm in a bit of a rut at the mo and any interaction about my writing would be really appreciated - even if it's negative. Especially if it's negative. People are often too polite to say stuff so pls - SAY STUFF.

That being said, don't feel obliged to 😂

Comment or whatever if you want, but I'm trying to get across that any feedback is welcomed.

Thanks 😊❤️

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

What the hell is a long furby?!?! Did someone stretch them????

Hehehe look at my son #3 (I'm adopting them on all my sideblohs -meant sideblog but yknow what that's better) give me all the childrennnnn.

I don't even use this sideblog anymore... but for him? Anything.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

Hold me?

I'm not safe now. Not here.

But I could be, I could be. With you. If you'll have me.

Will you have me?

Can I cling to you to cling to you? I can't offer anything more, not with my feet to breezeblocks, beneath the waves.

If I could just-

Reach

You.

Would you pull me up?

Could you?

I don't want to drown.

Darling, I can't swim like this.

So I'll send you 999, scratched out with a nail, placed in a bottle, set off towards you.

& pray it reaches you before I drown. Before I want to drown. Before I have to drown.

I can't swim like this. I thought I could. I was so sure I was floating, once, darling.

So sure.

I'll send you 999 - my eyes will flash like ambulances. Only from the right angle - look at me. Keep looking at me.

Tell me how a table's width is the ocean. Tell me how my legs are seizing up.

I don't know - I don't know how. Maybe hearing it from you will save my corroding ears.

Tell me, tell me. Tell me we're okay. Tell me.

You have strength enough to pull me up, yes? We don't have to die like this.

I don't want to die like this.

I want to die waning away with rickety bones & fragile hair & skin like loved fabric (love me. Crease my skin, I don't care).

Could you hold me. Darling, I need you to. It's my last stand, my last hope, before the ranks come crowding in. It's our last stand, love.

Can you hear me, above their cries? Above the slow chewing of stale bread, grissly meat & the silence? Does it even matter if you can?

(But can you?)

Would you, please? Hear me - hold me.

I was never much good at sewing - my hands, they shake too much. How will we put this back together?

[hamster-on-fire]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Ahhh. This is so exciting!! Ok. First fic. And I feel sick posting this but it's good-sick - I'm excited, promise!!! Absolutely no pressure to read - oh, and angst warning. Sort of. It's a happy ending (again, sort of), but the um. Location sort of lends itself to angst. Oh you'll see what I mean. No real ship sorry - mentions of tiva but it's more of a family fic.

@tivaholic4 💕🥰💕

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

We could just stay here 'til the sun sets, you and I.

We could hide here, if you'll have me.

Together we can dodge the icy day.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

There was joy.

Burning and wonderful -

The Sun.

It burned the backs of her eyes.

It dimmed,

And she saw the smoke.

A child - smoldering ash, and a hollowed-out head.

Behind glassy eyes -

The weight of the world.

She felt it split her skull.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

I live in a neighbourhood where people scream.

It's grey rooftops climb just as high as they dare - just beneath the ashen clouds.

It's getting greyer these days.

I worry.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

I miss my friends.

I miss whatever it was that we were together -

It was beautiful

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

Autumn days.

You gave me a leaf.

I remember -

A butterfly leaf.

For flying;

For freedom and flying far, far away.

For such a fleeting life.

But it has been a good one - hasn't it?

I laminated it, you know.

I kept it.

It sits in its plastic cocoon, only ever to be reborn as something far older.

I hope it sits on shelf after shelf for years, yet.

Never needing an introduction, for the incased, smeared fingerprints are mine and mine alone - the marks of a child, so eager to hold some precious treasure -

And

Deeper still,

Yours.

But you won't need me for that. You'll know. You'll see it and you'll know.

We'll live forever in the sight of it - that dusty thing.

Preserved beyond its feeble years.

Dust, it should be now.

But still, I hope.

I hope it will sear itself into my fabric.

I hope no golden child will peer curiously and ask for the why,

For they will know

I hope they'll know.

Lord, I hope they'll know.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

When did words on a page start being no more than that?

Is this it? My punishment?

Slaughtering my precious things

And leaving me staring at its corpse.

Words on a page.

They hate me.

Because of what I've done to them.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

Autumn days.

You gave me a leaf.

I remember -

A butterfly leaf.

For flying;

For freedom and flying far, far away.

For such a fleeting life.

But it has been a good one - hasn't it?

I laminated it, you know.

I kept it.

It sits in its plastic cocoon, only ever to be reborn as something far older.

I hope it sits on shelf after shelf for years, yet.

Never needing an introduction, for the incased, smeared fingerprints are mine and mine alone - the marks of a child, so eager to hold some precious treasure -

And

Deeper still,

Yours.

But you won't need me for that. You'll know. You'll see it and you'll know.

We'll live forever in the sight of it - that dusty thing.

Preserved beyond its feeble years.

Dust, it should be now.

But still, I hope.

I hope it will sear itself into my fabric.

I hope no golden child will peer curiously and ask for the why,

For they will know

I hope they'll know.

Lord, I hope they'll know.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

Take me back to a world that's not ending.

Please, my dear - let me see it one more time.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

Please - don't let this be a thing I can't forget.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

I awoke this morning with a heavy heart

With a mind that has work to do

With grey eyes.

I went back to sleep.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

Dust.

Spilling from the cracks in my mind.

Dust.

Peppered with the salt of the sea

That, never again, will see its home.

Dust.

Shaken and shaken -

Some strange, dull snow globe -

Afraid to let it lie still.

For fear of the landscape it may form.

Dust.

Look around. What more is there?

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

The trumpet cadence sings

High & soaring

In her soul -

Dragging,

With the strength of angels,

Her with it.

[an-attempt-at-bravery]

03/08/20

The sea is unbearably still.

Endless reams of sapphire stretch out below me

Miles and miles of untouched

Unmoving

Ocean

The quiet taunts me.

It sits in the boat with me and watches.

Desperation.

I rock the boat.

Nothing.

I scream at the silent, absent sky

No echo mourns with me.

I all but hurl myself into the waveless nothingness -

All encompassing nothingness

If I could

Just

Get

Moving.

I sit and I weep hollow tears

Tears that fill my boat

And spill

Over

Over

Overboard -

My plea for some terrible wind to come -

Some terrible terrible storm -

Anything to stir the sea

And bring me to my shore

My house

My people

My own waves and wind

Pent so carefully up within walls of brick

Down the coast

A body

Washes up

Beaten and bruised and bloodied

And far too gone to sing the words she ached to sing:

Home.

Oh waves, wash me home,

Even if it takes a wreckage -

Wreck me home.