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Nolan Bucsis
Poems
Dec 2019
It goes past depression
Everything I own is broken.
And irreparable.
I smell of.
Mouldy.
Ash trays.
Failure and lowly things.
Filth.
Decay.
Let's forget we were ever.
Alive.
And.
Ignore.
Everything.
Written by
Nolan Bucsis
34/M/Somewhere in Canada
(34/M/Somewhere in Canada)
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