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Spaghetti knots

this is a no good good no

the following isn’t what is could be


he died

like a hot dog

with the condiments of death

sprinkled when the ketchup dried

like relish of a haircut

and a stank of something resembling

mustard gas

and stuffed with meat that

was too jumbled to differentiate

but that did look delicious

at least on the outside


it is all so fake

and i see that

and i am that

and i am better

for seeing that

and worse off

for i am no more

than what i see

being part of it all

and being a necessary

whole myself that wonders

if it is real anyways


look away


if only i have

i will have no need

to need

but unfortunately

i have the need

of only if


i am afraid

if i call myself a writer

or a poet

or anything worthy

i will join the pile of shit

i feel myself seeping into

a lump i try to avoid

by writing and poetry

and doing worthy anythings

that make me less afraid

of what i am

About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters. Follow my wordpress or my IG (@_kenkan)


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