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Spaghetti knots

this is not a poem about you

i am ok

surrounded by constellations

of coffee stains

i didn’t drink


i am fine

not noticing the weather


the sun burns


i am content

with ice cream



strands of hair


i am incredible

bloated here

with nothing at all

that pours out



i am defiant

against the morning dew

and the apocalypse of evaporation

that follows like belaboured breathes


i am stellar

in this dark room



i am nature

with ants picking up

those who can

no longer


i am total

packing up bags

wondering if i forgot



i am universal

not recognizing any of the faces

that tell me how good i look now


i am not looking

at those faces

which may also look as good

as me missing a now then


i am good

i am great

i am gracious

in my fourth drink

not trying to be a cliché

though the wine is french

and i am not


i am strength

moving onto another day

that would come without me



i am rest

not sleeping

i am dreaming

not snoring


i am hunger

unloading the boxes

entering the void

eating the hearts

that will beat with light

and electricity again


i am asexual

knowing that even self-pollinating flowers

need the sun


i am the sun

knowing that even a star

needs the empty space


i am empty space

knowing it needs nothing more

than it


i am it

but that was not enough

of it

for you


About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters.


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