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Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2023
I think it is time I finally give up
Many years I have tried
Ugly habits plucked like weeds
They just grow back inside
Singing melodies to help sleep
Never gets easier alone
Bed feels colder every night
Missing all peace I've ever known
Demons play games inside head
Bouncing around bonfire
Laughing at my suffering
Nerves wrapped in barbed wire
The weight of past mistakes drag down
Shoulders breaking under stress
Searching for dream to salvage
Cannot find it within the tangled mess
It's too chaotic in my mind
ryn Jan 2023
Peer into the keyhole.

And seek what you may…

But with your eyes
you will find not,
what it is you seek.

For it must be the heart
that commands this salvage.

TheWitheredSoul May 2020
I dream of a day!, everyday,
I don't know who far the day is,
but i dream of that day everyday.

The day where the lone shadow that lays behind me no longer lies aloof.

The day where my voice no longer echoes through the hollow walls.

The day where the song of my heart is heard.

The day where my words finally make sense.

The day where i salvage my soul from the ruins of my past.

The day where i finally find myself.

I dream for that day!, Everyday.
and i know that you too, dream of that Day.
No amount words can ever truly console a heart that lays weary of itself.
If you like this one do check the other ones too
Jonathan Moya Feb 2020
What keeps me holding onto my old self,
preventing me from casting it into past swells?

Something detested, adored, hymned too,
haunted, cancer ridden, inflamed, grieving

and torn- yet beloved, pulled forward
into an ocean of tomorrow and tomorrow’s

swimming to hope or drowning in hopelessness,
never knowing where my forgiveness exists

or where my identity will be marooned,
my crueler self will  beach

and be rescued or
die in the unlit sun.
when a
clump of
lice afield
with the
prey was
abruptly fired
between her
**** that
this cantilever
bucked yet
would bone
the cast
upon her
harvest moon
only she
made right
turn bare
an autumn bear
A box of rusted feelings hides in the salvaged yard of my mind.
Jagged sorrows and broken promises surround the dismembered machinery,
forgotten and guarded.

The old dog with his once beastly growl, no longer cares who leaves or stays.
The dirt below, slowly pulling
forming his final resting place.

Shabby parts like tired looks rot under thunderstorms of powering weather.
Torn threads like once relationships, patched and torn asunder
The Stacks pile high, a top the years of mistakes
The box slowly sinks
heaving more and more heartbreaks
A metaphor for the pain we pile up
Twalib Mushi Jul 2018
Welcome to the informational age
We're enjoy the world of technology
Never felt this modern world could emerge
Magical world with braveness and courage.

Welcome to the social media age
As everything we do is on page
We live like birds in a cage
It makes us falling into a rage.

Welcome to the insane and madness age
To make headlines,create a **** sweet savage
Can't believe we're on this stage
But we are still holding our grudge.

Welcome to the sweetest scientific age
Your reputation,you better manage
Like passenger manage it, as your luggage
Saving it, save safe from the salvage.
Aidan Derocher Apr 2018
every footstep taken
sinks slightly more

into this marshland, into life
into fear

can i cast my hand out
and have her catch it

or will even the attempt
be yet another misstep
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