Bubonicfuzz

@BubonicFuzz

Crow poet of no importance, Mayfair mistress of the satellites. All poetry posted is CR unless RT or FAV. Don't steal my words no DM

Nowhere
Vrijeme pridruživanja: kolovoz 2009.

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  1. Prikvačeni tweet
    17. tra 2019.

    That time I got to meet James O'Barr 💙

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  2. prije 11 sati

    I make coffe at work before grinding away at documents It takes me to the ICU in December That one winter when my father died and we spent days and nights fueled on a bitter black brew... All of the sudden I am back at work Far, Far away from December

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  3. 3. velj

    Smooth edges of the guitar Strings silent in the night Hands trembling gently Fingers strumming starlight The record skipped Reminder that the world was waiting still On the otherside Of smooth guitars & silent silver strings <guitars are pretty >

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  4. 3. velj

    There were hymns &prayers& psalms between Your hands were young&supple our skins unmarred &clean There were roses in the window boxes fruit upon the vines The summer smelled like motor oil our nights spent in the pines With wounds new & shining Our love was fresh &kind

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  5. 3. velj

    I dont have anything for you in here Just like you dont have anything in there for me, Not room or blood or words or art Nothing Fills our mouths And miles, Years Swollen with nothing. #2020 <nothing_comes_from_nothing>

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  6. 2. velj
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  7. 2. velj
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  8. 1. velj

    Slide into the recesses of that dark place Call it a candy eyed snake Call it a pathway back from hell Call it what you will Just name it Name it Name it something smooth as bone Tall as trees Deep as blood Whisper it into the night Give into the flood Apres moi

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  9. 6. sij

    You were slashing Punch drunk red Across glistening pavement Steaming from the summer rain, Everything has to die. In a flash of lightning The valley is silhouetted As a breath expelled.

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  10. 1. sij

    Lately I'm wishing I had all those things that make moms moms My husband said I was missing something, The same thing my mother is missing, Why she is not a comfort to me. I watch him I want to be so much better Than I ever will be And I want to die.

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  11. 1. sij

    Now we grind until July, saying we can meet their false deadlines; Now we start the countdown all over again.

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  12. 30. pro 2019.

    The ocean is full of his ghosts His shores are sharp and barren There is nothing for you here Leave the bones where they lay Lest you become a phantom, A name upon his waves. <someone said ocean in their tweet>

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  13. 28. pro 2019.

    I dont wanna fucking do this shit today

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  14. 25. pro 2019.

    Magic On the hips of ladies Elbow deep in flowers Tieing together The ends of desire Fat lipped And eager <who r u kiddin who r u foolin>

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  15. 25. pro 2019.

    Im good with goodbyes Living at a distance In a place where you can never find me Im good with silence Internalization Being killed by my own self Im alright Never being Alright

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  16. 25. pro 2019.

    My Grandmother Wrapped me in blankets & told me stories of Saints My favorite was the one where little roses rained down from the sky on the people and the air was fragrant She showed me their bones Shrouds stained with holy blood, We would cross ourselves and pray

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  17. 24. pro 2019.

    There is magic on Christmas Eve, The lights sparkle just a little brighter, The air is crisp And your parents arms are warm as you're carried inside to sleep, Waiting for the promise of tomorrow; There is magic, Wrapped around that little green tree.

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  18. 22. pro 2019.

    Me: Its not always a good idea to put food in your pockets. Toddler: ok! Me: remembering when toddler's father would get off of work and pull random pizza slices out of his apron pocket to eat. <this is my life now> 😂😂😂

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  19. 20. pro 2019.

    1114 The elves had always shirked authority; anarchy in the NP! <elves> 🌲⛄

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  20. 20. pro 2019.

    1113 Secrets untold bounding through her mind as winter takes hold. <untold>

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  21. proslijedio/la je Tweet
    19. pro 2019.

    Burn them-- All my poems. All my stories. I don't want to be recited. I don't want to be related. I don't want to be remembered. Written, spending hours in the closed darkroom thinking, overthinking my poetries and proses have nothing to do with you. Burn them.

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