margraves
41/M/Michigan
Hello. Newbie. I write when I'm bored/excited/afraid/nervous/hurting. I have an hour commute to and from work, and a lot of the time I use this as time to think of words and themes that I want to write about. I then text them to myself so I don't forget.
A window pane closes, separating the outside from my inside pain,
There are words and phrases that exist, but I stumble over the solution time and time again.
Help heal me, open wounds, neglected, fate sealed for me.
Eyes blind, shuttered shut, sometimes hard to just...be.
Brush strokes make pictures that didn't used to be,
a new life, sudden stop as the dark takes another stab at me.
Tripped up and let down, and yet I'll continue to build new steps,
I'm running fast, and life just hasn't caught up to me yet.
Plans persist, no matter how hard I try to resist,
I exist. Not in a world where thoughts thrive,
I perish. Not in a Death where light doesn't shine.
I blame the game. My surname. Whatever I can, it's all the same.
I present problems. Myself. I'm you twenty years ago feeding my ego.
Let me go. Because holding onto scraps leads to scrapes that only you and I will know.
Push me faster and further away, there's not a single spot that's safe for me to stay.
I'm a work of art, but just in the mind of the artist who maybe forgot to start.
Oct 17, 2025
Oct 17, 2025 at 2:47 PM UTC
I thought about leaving during the night,
not a vacation, but still a planned trip.
I considered what would be left behind,
Tear-soaked cheeks and a wet wrist you'd find.
Grasping for answers that never align,
try to stumble into happiness just this one time.
Persist each day, curtains drawn like a map made for treasure,
I wonder if you'd even miss me for ten seconds, or forever?
You're a cheat sheet that's glued shut,
full of answers that go unanswered, so what?
I grip these rails of life,
new days begin,
hold my breath and go through the motions,
until I can finally close my eyes again.
Mar 4, 2025
Mar 4, 2025 at 2:03 PM UTC
How do I appease the pieces of me that accept defeat,
a covered smile, buried deep, thrilled about the secrets I keep.
"Tag, you're it," screams signs of relief,
trailing away, fading light, another answer that leads to grief.
I plaster missing persons posters in my mind,
praying to an invisible something that it's me that it'll help find.
I'm hurting and I don't know why,
This well runs deep, but it's not filled with tears to cry.
There are memories of memories that pull down into descent,
I can't "rise up" when my thoughts have me buried in cement.
Take a deep breath, inhale, there's a remedy at the door,
like a thousand lives before, my will is chained to the floor.
I reach for you, Comfort, a name carved into this grave,
you didn't sign up for this - a lost cause troubled, for you to save.
On one hand, four digits, my blessings combined,
I can't seem to open up, because I'm scared of what we'd find.
Let me go, sink, become one with the mud,
wash away my sins, cleanse my soul, swept away in the flood.
Jan 15, 2025
Jan 15, 2025 at 10:10 PM UTC
Comfortable in my confusion, cracked inside, depleted confusion,
defense of the heart, standing ground, shaking like two hearts' fusion.
Peel back, layered doubt, insisting on eternity,
Feelings lack existence, doubt buried here, uncertainty.
A fever, no a glow; Contagious? Severe? Let's go slow.
Fingers pace, twitching, life force leaving as I try to trace your face,
This isn't the place, bloodstained wonder, journal falling from an unsteady bookcase.
I read and bleed as you write about my wrongs,
A subtle stab in the not-so-dark as I try to right my wrongs.
I pretend to be happy, but each smile drops my days by one,
Begging for a shiny new thing, trade in for one that's more fun.
There's a case, a cause for a ringing alarm,
Everyone is safe - save for me, there's harm.
There's the way you make me feel,
and that's the other side of how I heal.
Snake-tongued intent, kindness it seems, forfeit.
If there's nothing left there, I can't force it.
A pool of melted memories flows down to the ground,
we enter this earth so loud, yet leave without a sound.
Nov 4, 2024
Nov 4, 2024 at 11:35 AM UTC
Sometimes I wish I didn't have ears to hear, dear,
eyes that'd be lost in a sea of salt water, effects unfounded, I fear.
I tried to multiply the designation of landed blows,
and where and when the next one happens, I'll never know.
A cushion of comfort, radius rewinding,
a stinging snakebite, un-healing, somehow reminding.
A breath, deep, swallowing rationality,
a misguided answer, pointing towards practicality.
Keep me bound, claws fixed in a fury,
bury me deep, cover these wounds in a hurry.
Pick up pieces of me leaving, chase me down as I'm retrieving,
draw a hundred different pictures, one broad brush I'm heaving.
Hands white, outlined in chalk,
Heart dark, filled in with hate-fueled talk.
Picture-perfect, broken camera, eyes red,
hate me now and love me yesterday after I'm dead.
Healing process exists, but I maybe missed the bus.
A broken cough, signs I'm sick, blink of an eye on the cusp.
Aug 13, 2024
Aug 13, 2024 at 4:01 PM UTC
I closed my eyes for the final time, or so I thought,
but god ****** me this morning, as my vision, the sun's rays caught.
We circle the days that we look forward to with invisible ink,
trigger finger, coping mechanism, drink this lead so you won't sink.
Imagine images colored all the same, pictured differently,
trying to take away the pain.
A mistake was made the day that I was claimed, revolving melodies,
that all just trade away.
Hope evolves, and then there's me not believing in evolution,
"clean up your life," but I'm just that forever pollution.
Life lives and death dies,
another day goes by and my existence is surprised.
Tempt with discovery, a new needle-tongued lie,
close my eyes, embrace the darkness, because tomorrow we will "survive."
Cling to the good, the best, maybe my childhood?
You'd think there'd be something there, a joy, a love, I wish I could.
Broad brush painting black thin lines,
Second-Hand clock retreating, trying its hardest to turn back time.
It's stuck, my luck, right here in the un-divine,
a holy disaster unfolds as this ball of yarn unwinds.
Mar 29, 2024
Mar 29, 2024 at 4:40 PM UTC
I’ve attempted to write down the things that matter most,
A message that’s meaningful, or words that will help me think,
But the light burned out, this pen ran dry of ink.
A cause, an effect, a practice makes perfect subject.
Tracing shaky steps as I fall to the floor,
A willingness to live, trapped right outside the door.
Pounding once, twice, three times on wood,
Clutch praying pearls, as a good faith measure should.
The answer comes, pouring like rain,
My issue is that I only hear them as they slip down the drain.
Punctured picture, removing my smile from old frames,
I’m in my own position, myself, my upbringing, my own thoughts to blame.
I reach for hope, not realizing that my sanity came unglued,
I settled on the incorrect decision that I’m “just fine,” and that I’ll “make do.”
Hate exists on the balance beam of what most consider love,
I consider the presence of darkness a calm, needed drug.
Dice clutched to my chest, afraid to tempt fate,
I let one stumble, and slip, to help my surrender placate.
Easy answers hidden behind the eyes of dead lies,
My decisions are mine, never cross the line, to my surprise.
Pills and promises fed to help make one believe,
Bills and an unhealthy conscious are all that my mind breeds.
Jul 20, 2023
Jul 20, 2023 at 11:26 AM UTC
There’s a reason that they don’t intertwine,
head and heart, forever war, combustion and collide.
Stalemate, ever deserving, declares a winner,
decided by the apathy from the hands of a sinner.
To each their own until it affects what we think should be ours,
a cloud of doubt that hangs low enough beneath the storms final hours.
Sleeping sickness surrenders all that’s good and leaving nothing to begin,
I’m in too deep, gone too far, the end is too close for me to start again.
Words caressed, increasing the impression of what’s printed on my heart,
A level of compassion only exists in the form of scandalous figures and charts.
My life’s purpose seems to accommodate comedy,
sips here and gallons there, picking its poison to make itself somebody.
There are days that happen where I’d love to live in my blankets,
and others still where I can’t believe the opportunities I’ve missed.
Feed me knowledge, carefully place me there at the learning edge,
Little victories demonstrating anguish against such large defeats,
back against the wall, I do all that I can to honor my pledge,
a humbled and broken vestige of former self I’d rather not meet.
Concrete plans laid bare, gardens growing, hiding something that was never there,
this life has a tendency to always be unfair.
Jul 20, 2023
Jul 20, 2023 at 10:52 AM UTC
I've been told that dead men don't tell tales,
but even worse are those that live and scream out truth through their wails.
A bleeding heart stored on the cusp of each evenings glow,
I clap my hands at this life's end, such a terrible show.
There's pressure planted at the base of each king's throne,
a different taste, desire and let down for something more homegrown.
A rupture in space through the waves of one heart mimic,
harder and harder to face life's twists and turns by setting unreal limits.
I picture time leaned back, relaxing; testing its own struggle,
a few more breaths, here and there, is what I'm trying to smuggle.
The end of days has a commonality with that of a dial tone,
both calling out, trying to be heard, but ultimately dying alone.
Evicted emotions are the envy and the end-all of the wax and wane,
forgive and forget so that in the near future you can fall prey the same.
Disregard feelings like a dusty souvenir sitting on a high shelf pawn shop,
push on, take names, and whatever you do, never retreat or stop.
Regurgitated fears as I choke back free flowing tears,
taking another crack at your misguided attack has set me back fifteen years.
Using your wit, a bit, you must admit has helped you climb the ladder,
but wholesome, and truthfulness, no, that's an entirely different matter.
Apr 20, 2022
Apr 20, 2022 at 2:48 PM UTC
Solitude, in itself, is just another form of loneliness,
sometimes a faint smile is equal to forgiveness, I will confess.
A hundred wrong decisions, life shattered and splintered,
Cover me deeply, this coffin, protecting me from the winter.
You can’t come here - you belong buried where heartaches seeks,
Hammer holds, reaching, bidding, pulling back life nails as they shriek.
Silence. Absolutely brutal, savage silence.
Darkness. Terrifyingly cruel, misquoted guidance.
There’s time for me yet, even as I bow at the last curtain call,
at the end of this life, no regrets, no mistakes, “I lived” as a reply all.
Minor memories stir up old trouble behind closed eyelids,
a silly mistake here, a proper reply there, it’s just what we did.
Shut out, bow down, a troubled childhood led to substantial grief,
Hold on, power through, persevere it’ll be brief.
Death held my hand which is such a sad way to live,
His bony fragmented clasp, helped me learn to forgive.
I’ve practiced what you preached, always hoping it was correct,
In the end, I was wrong, because it’s my life that you wrecked.
Mar 3, 2022
Mar 3, 2022 at 10:08 AM UTC