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140 · Jul 2018
Fear and Apprehension
Nolan Bucsis Jul 2018
I just wanted to move back to that.
Emptiness in my childhood.

That vacant stare.

The wind whistling in my ear.
And old addages.
To help me fall
Asleep.
140 · Apr 2019
Nothing in particular
Nolan Bucsis Apr 2019
I've spent a lot of time.
Just wasting it.
And the frustration builds up like my soon to come midlife crisis.
Could I have been something better than this.

Fumbled speech.
This.
Awkward glance.
This.
Apprehensive twitch.
This.
Somnolent nightmare.

I sleep through the days.
Disconnected from everything.

A loner on the run.
From nothing.
In particular.
139 · Jun 2019
Work
Nolan Bucsis Jun 2019
It's another meandering miserable day.
Stuck in the rain, shrouded in grey omnipotent clouds.

Here.
Working.

I've always wanted to leave.

Go.
Out there.
Far from the doldrums of dreaded consistency.
139 · Mar 19
Pathetic
Nolan Bucsis Mar 19
Last night before I went to bed.
I convinced myself.
To fall asleep and wake up in another.
Tomorrow.

Where things.
Would be better.

Now that I'm here.
It's really not quite clear.
Why I bothered.
139 · Sep 2017
I'm never here or there
Nolan Bucsis Sep 2017
The idioms of my persona fluctuate with time.
Some new intuition that speaks to your soul.
Which to me, is just,
An aesthetic.
An overall style.

It's always so late when I decide to wake up.
All you catch is my exit.
139 · Oct 2017
Stuff again.
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
Tomorrow is terrifying.
In these wasted days.
Where I can't see a future.

The withdrawal.
Of tobacco.
Starving from habit.
Hypoglycemic psychosis.

Just.
Panic.

Just.
Dysfunction.

Just.
Abysmal.

I like to pretend.
That one day my life will be better.

More.
Normal.
139 · Apr 2019
Monotonous
Nolan Bucsis Apr 2019
Where do I leave these words she gave me?
Where do I put the intimate things?

Where do I let go of the letdown we became.
How do I forget the beautiful could have been.

Here in this regret.
Here in this middle of nowhere.
Here where the rocks murmur a name I no longer hear.

Here despondent.
Here derived.

Contrition.
Torpor.
138 · Jun 2018
Why did I wake up #1
Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018
There is no concern for the feelings of a loved one.
When you're lost out there.
In the comfortable silence.
Of aeons.

Unconcsious.

Subsumed in the warm bath.
Of annihilation.

Beyond speech.
138 · Jul 2018
Something
Nolan Bucsis Jul 2018
I'll wake up tomorrow and you'll be in my dreams.
Stuck.
A good memory gone bad.

And I'll see you in her face.

Hear your in her voice.

And I'll push her away.
Too.
137 · Jul 2019
Hegel's last humour
Nolan Bucsis Jul 2019
I endure for I am hard.
Yet the struggles are never easy.
Always rock bottom.
And, I'm assured this is it.

Torment.
Loss.
Absolution.

So many restarted lives I'm the Buddha of malcontents.
Irrational fear.

Isolation.

All the drawn out strained things.
I'm an avatara of falling apart.
The gestalt of sloth.

A zeitgeist.
For failure.
Nolan Bucsis May 3
I woke up in right now.
When I was really back there.
Apprehensive and afraid.
My cold sweat.
Chilling

Sleeping past the morning
Nervous that nothing will pan out.
As it does in my head.

But I don't think it happened before

Back when my mantra was
Never did nothin.
Never was gonna be anything magnificent.
Never tried enough to be great.
Not even mediocre.

All I ever got
Was a failed
Life.
Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018
It's good that my memory has been damaged.
Irrevocably from all the drugs I consumed.
It's perfect.
I can't even remember the things.
I just want to
Forget.
137 · Jul 2018
Hitching to Tommorow
Nolan Bucsis Jul 2018
I'm stagnant.
In this indoor mania.
My cabin fever.
The isolation.
And the world keeps passing me by and leaving me in the ditch.
Again
136 · Sep 2019
It's never that good
Nolan Bucsis Sep 2019
I have nothing left.
To give you.
I gave it all away.

And now.
I stare into nothingness.
The abyssal night of stupidity.

Too many drugs when I was young.

And I can't make friends.
Don't know how.

And the words I used to relish.
Come so slowly and imprecise.
I chain smoke thought the days.

And escape more often than naught.

Into
One of my many vices.
Anything.
To stop my brain from thinking.

This is all hopeless.
And you're a ******* .
Who deserves nothing.
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
I see myself.
Sitting there.
Wondering how to respond.
To the way that you're smiling.

So.
I awkwardly bare my teeth.
Trying no to stare in your eyes.
With my cold.
Dead.

Confused.
Eyes.

Trying to fake an emotion.
Anything.
Human.
136 · Oct 2017
Hopeless
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
What's left.
When you've.
Given up.

What is there to do.
But, wait until.
Your body breaks down.

And ignore.
Your situation.
136 · Oct 2017
Institute
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
I drove across Canada.
At eighteen.
With an artist friend.
To run away from home.
For ***** and giggles.
Driving for days.
And, going mad.
Stuck up in the shrub
The vista of the same tree.
Motorsports on freeways.
The car become an appendage.
135 · Mar 2018
Social Cancer Media
Nolan Bucsis Mar 2018
Now.
I disconnect myself.
From that synthetic reality.
The serendipitous escape.

Where for once.
I was part of a greater community.
Something different.
If only in my mind.

The fantasy.
Was always.
A change from the empty stillness.
The mute conversations I have with myself.
A distraction from unremitting failure.

Now.
I'm not so schizophrenically.
Detached.
Stuck in the minds of other people.

I think.
What exactly did I learn.
From that grandiose delusion of mine.
From that failure to connect.
From that fragile persona.
That was never me.
My never was.


Nothing.

I learned nothing.

I'm going back to all alone.
It's much more comfortable.
More, serene.

True to myself.
133 · Sep 2019
Out there
Nolan Bucsis Sep 2019
I imagine she's out there.
In that lauded by and by.
Thinking of me.

I hope.

Yet.
I don't know who she is.
And I understand.

She'll just.
Find.
Someone else.
Someone better.

Cause I'm just ossified in my regret.
Depressed because I'm alive.
Socially absent.

Living alone gets me down.
But I long for her hypothetical embrace.
Her ill defined face.

And my love.
For some ghost.
I can only imagine.
Out there.
132 · Jun 20
My Society
Nolan Bucsis Jun 20
A rage that
Cannot be sated,
I project,
Across infinity
To those I hate.

Destruction.
Desolation.

I offer you annihilation.
Nolan Bucsis May 2018
There's always a creeping terror.
Liminal time.
A sinking feeling of guilt.
Apprehensive self loathing
And, an urge to just recede.
Into that murmur at the edge of existence.
That lost place.
Some where as vacant as me.
Right now.
Somewhere I can float.
Free of my body.
Liberated from this melancholy
When my depression hits
132 · Jun 2018
No. Not anymore.
Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018
At least when I'm crazy.
The sadness won't set in.
Long enough.

For me to get high.
Just to make it.

Through the day.
132 · Feb 2018
Untitled
Nolan Bucsis Feb 2018
Eventually it dawned on me.
That grimacing when I was in pain.
Was to communicate distress.
To someone who was never there.
Now I just.
Take it.
131 · Jul 2018
Hauty Aspirations
Nolan Bucsis Jul 2018
Please God.
Please.
Just give me.

One

Good

Day
131 · Jul 2018
Existential Relationships
Nolan Bucsis Jul 2018
I'm just bored.
Distracting myself from the knowledge.
It all.
Means.
Nothing.
131 · Feb 2018
Untitled
Nolan Bucsis Feb 2018
Feelings come and go in irregular patterns.
It's always most joyous.
When I have my flat affect.
Something very hard.
To read into.
Some very cold fish.
131 · Oct 2017
Hurts. Man.
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
I'm not gonna make it.
Passed that line.
Into normal.
And all the responsibilities.
I'm not capable.
Of having.

So, instead.
It's just sheer panic and trying.
Not to die.
Through these invisible meaningless.
Meals.  I eat.
To keep myself alive.

And the acid burn of my.
Aborted attempts.
At being something more.
Than anger.
Frustration.
Walking through anonymous streets.
Chased out of the pubilc.

With no one.
To talk to.
130 · Oct 2017
Idle
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
The thoughts in my mind.
No longer coalesce into substance.

Something beautiful.

I'm stuck in confused.
Afraid of other people.

Incapable.
Of.
Interacting

In any.
Meaningful.
Way.
130 · Jun 5
Sleeping late
Nolan Bucsis Jun 5
From the inside
Of the coma.
I breathe rhythmically.
Out of step
With
The outside world.

Until I wake up.
And,
Mourn the loss of dreams.

Synchronized with the depression
Of aware.
130 · Apr 2019
I could have been something
Nolan Bucsis Apr 2019
What's the point of a whispered.
Half spoken.
Last sigh.
To the darkness.
And the cold.
Still.
Night.
129 · Jun 2018
Why did I wake up #2
Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018
I slept through tomorrow.
Woke up in why now.
And I'm about to recede.
Back into the nightmares.
I have every night

I'm a useless eater.

So I starve myself.
So as not to waste the food.

Just everyone's expectations.
129 · Apr 2018
Gasp
Nolan Bucsis Apr 2018
She sells sea shells.
In seclude sacred sanctuaries.
And other assoreed.
Temporary Autonomous Zones
128 · Apr 2018
Overdosed on Love Poems
Nolan Bucsis Apr 2018
No one will fix you.
Only your banal self.
And, it's not profound.
Just.
Happens.

You can lick your own wounds.

I did.
128 · Oct 2017
Graffiti
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
Philosophers write pretty.
Words.
But, at a certain point.
Those words.
Write.
Their own truth.
128 · Nov 2017
M
Nolan Bucsis Nov 2017
M
Cigarettes never burn.
Enough.
So I rip off the skin.
And, throw in some salt.

Cauterized.
Sterile.

As some hippy.
Tries to talk to me.
And, all I want to do.
Is explode.

Into nothingness.
Despair.
Fear.
Trembling.
127 · Apr 2019
Truth
Nolan Bucsis Apr 2019
I'm alone.
Always alone.
And the loneliness is just amnesia.
Forgetting how people are.
And how.
I want them to be.
127 · Jun 2018
Normal, again
Nolan Bucsis Jun 2018
What's the point in this.
Self expression of miserable thoughts.
Tomorrow.
Is gone and now I recede into a never was.
Chasing delusions.
Running from life.
And maybe tomorrow.
It will get better.
And maybe tomorrow.
I'll be dead.

As though these sad songs mean anything other.
Than I'm back to being normal.
Depressed.
Listless.
And an utter.
Disappointment.

Up there in that distraction.
That unmedicated delirium.
I feel normal and curse the injustice.
When really.
All I am is bored.
And oh so severely.
Damaged.

With no self expression left.
But a blank stare and impulsive displays.
Of go away.
I don't want to human anymore.
127 · Nov 2017
K
Nolan Bucsis Nov 2017
K
I'm obsessively repeating it in my head.
The regret.
The shame.
The urge to die.

When I think of all the things.
I just.
Didn't do.

Wasting my life for nothing.
Conversations reduce.
To a few grunts.
127 · Aug 2018
Sleep
Nolan Bucsis Aug 2018
She sings syllogisms.
That no one knows.
But her, the wind, and my imagination.
Where she's beautiful.
Frozen in a good memory.

A lovely smile.

And.
Here I am.
Reading metaphors and analogies.
From her sweet lips.
127 · Mar 2019
Down again
Nolan Bucsis Mar 2019
Starting over is another chore.
Another necessity.
One more thing remained unaccomplished.
One more arbitrary rule.

Maybe I should just sleep.
Sleep and recede into the somnolence.
Fade off into nothing.
Of note.

And never was.
Something.
Just.
Loss
127 · Jul 2018
Yesteryears
Nolan Bucsis Jul 2018
I'm old now.
Older than I ever was.
Such a simple dilemma.
Looking at pictures of myself.
From a lifetime ago.
126 · Mar 2018
When I think About Tomorrow
Nolan Bucsis Mar 2018
Hopeless.
As all that potential dried up.
Into oh so much ash.
Placed in an urn.
Scattered on the sea.

It's just that reality.
Never turns out quite like it.
Should.

A withered future.
And nothing gained.
So I stick to now.

And,
Medication.
126 · Oct 2017
Skeezy
Nolan Bucsis Oct 2017
She said she was *****.
And didn't know where she left her needles.

So I hung out in the kitchen.
Where I could see everything.

Trying to score dope.
In this *****'s house.

With a friend.
125 · Jul 2018
My Morbid Reality
Nolan Bucsis Jul 2018
My cough is more worrying.
I sweat too easily.
Maybe I'm developing.
A taste for.
Death.
124 · Sep 2019
My necessity
Nolan Bucsis Sep 2019
This stability of mine.
Is depressing
The doldrums of routine.
They keep me unfilled.

And,
oh I long.
For adventure that ends in ruin.

And,
oh I long.
For Dionysian ecstasy.

But.
That all lead to squander and squalor.
To trauma and decay.
That all lead to death.
Minutes away from the reaper.

So.
I keep at the Apollonian ordering of chaos and revel in the boredom of banal.
And I'm less inspired.

But well dressed.
But well fed.
But always high.

Maybe just maybe at the end of the dredgery I'll feel fullfilled.
Like all of this mattered.

But I'm a husk of an interesting person.
And the tumult of chaos and drifting.

Giving up.

Still natters at my mind.
Like my unfinished books.
Like my drug induced amnesia.

It all gets forgotten in my mundane days.
My necessity.
124 · May 2018
Goth Chicks
Nolan Bucsis May 2018
It's that nihilism that draws me in.
Gets me lost in her emptiness.
Where all we can hear.
Is the breath.
We can't catch.
124 · Mar 2018
Hurricane something harsh
Nolan Bucsis Mar 2018
You can rage against the storm.
But.
If you survive.
You get to rebuild.
In all its tedium.
124 · Apr 2018
I Only Enjoy. Rejects.
Nolan Bucsis Apr 2018
Today.
An autistic man was playing the free piano.
Turning pages that weren't there.
Not twitching or mumbling to himself.
Not odd.
Composed

And

By God.
It was better than anything I'm capable.
Carved in his mind.
Beautiful.
For a moment.
123 · May 2018
Untitled
Nolan Bucsis May 2018
Who are you that.
Thinks I"m so great.
I'm nothing.
Other than your grandiose over thought.
Imagination.
Barely able to feed myself.
Let alone be your.
Muse.
123 · Sep 2017
Was it goodbye.
Nolan Bucsis Sep 2017
The emotions I've had.
Must miss me.
As I cast them aside.
And relied.
On myself.
With no need.
For, you.
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