Bexs Nels
@goodcup.bsky.social
Wrestles words. Tea-drinker. Always looking. Here for the beauty, the ache, and the odd grace of it all.
Smudged.
Smeared.
Still useful.
Mistakes don't define usefulness. They don't ruin the story. In fact, they often become it.
Smeared.
Still useful.
Mistakes don't define usefulness. They don't ruin the story. In fact, they often become it.
July 14, 2025 at 7:04 PM
Smudged.
Smeared.
Still useful.
Mistakes don't define usefulness. They don't ruin the story. In fact, they often become it.
Smeared.
Still useful.
Mistakes don't define usefulness. They don't ruin the story. In fact, they often become it.
On the edge of the graveyard,
Honeysuckle climbs.
It spills sweetness
into the hush,
A wild, verdant hymn against the stone.
I pressed my nose to a bloom,
and for one breath,
the world was only sugar
and bees
and the astonishing fact
that nature's beauty
doesn’t wait for permission.
-BN, May 2025
Honeysuckle climbs.
It spills sweetness
into the hush,
A wild, verdant hymn against the stone.
I pressed my nose to a bloom,
and for one breath,
the world was only sugar
and bees
and the astonishing fact
that nature's beauty
doesn’t wait for permission.
-BN, May 2025
May 23, 2025 at 10:14 PM
On the edge of the graveyard,
Honeysuckle climbs.
It spills sweetness
into the hush,
A wild, verdant hymn against the stone.
I pressed my nose to a bloom,
and for one breath,
the world was only sugar
and bees
and the astonishing fact
that nature's beauty
doesn’t wait for permission.
-BN, May 2025
Honeysuckle climbs.
It spills sweetness
into the hush,
A wild, verdant hymn against the stone.
I pressed my nose to a bloom,
and for one breath,
the world was only sugar
and bees
and the astonishing fact
that nature's beauty
doesn’t wait for permission.
-BN, May 2025