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Nolan Bucsis
Poems
Mar 13
Torpor.
Everything is empty inside.
And I see your passing face.
Somewhere down the line.
I thought I knew you.
But maybe it was just the image.
I had in my mind.
This is the wasted space.
I take up.
Starving myself as punishment.
Just can't connect.
And be.
Pro social.
Written by
Nolan Bucsis
41/M/Somewhere in Canada
(41/M/Somewhere in Canada)
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