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Nolan Bucsis
Poems
Jun 2018
Maybe I'll Get Empathy, Other than a Hole
I can't remember the sound of her voice.
Her touch.
Or anything we said to each other in confidence.
I don't remember her laugh.
Or the way she smelled.
But her face is etched.
Into my very being.
So much so that I wish.
I could just.
Forget.
Written by
Nolan Bucsis
34/M/Somewhere in Canada
(34/M/Somewhere in Canada)
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