Silk and Concrete

Dylan Van

My name is Dylan Van, and I’m from Aurora, Colorado.

I have fallen in love with poetry for the past couple of years. I want to be the voice for those are cannot speak; it’s all I wanted from my writing–for others to feel what they’ve been aching to feel. I hope to have my book, “Silk and Concrete,” published by the end of 2021.

under construction

                 I rather 

            pay rent in a 

       dented tent, alone,

  than feel broken hearts 

as if they were-shattered 

bones. I did to myself, I 

broke them on my own

I am heartbroken because

I let my walls get demolished, 

before I finished building

my home

dear you

we meet people for different reasons

and I hope it’s the right reasons with you

I hope former wounds remain closed,

for good, 

and for granted

I hope I am not taken

I broke my own heart,

trying to fix yours and 

to be yours 

but despite everything

I would hope this letter  

      continues …

dear you pt 2

I’m obsessed with misery

       like I’m obsessed with you

but this isn’t love 

      it’s my abandonment issues

          searching for a temporary muse

I needed to see you tonight

like the night needs the moon to

   feel okay when it isn’t so bright

But I rather be alone if it means 

    you’re still smiling 

at the end of the

  mess I made 

I hope you’re doing alright

   I hope this letter gets to you

temporary 

as hard as it is to admit

almost everything is temporary

you were temporary

every picture we painted together

became tainted with black splatters 

of hopeless scenarios that 

I all too much depended on 

forever and always turned 

into never and never again

and although I’m tempted 

to miss you from time to time 

you didn’t deserve me

even momentarily 

I just hope these scars 

you left behind are 

just as temporary 

as the feelings 

you had 

for me 

wedding dress

a white corset

     submerged in black paint 

I am tainted by your lust,

 resurrected by your love 

so burn me alive, 

    and set me free, 

like when you said ‘I do’,

 I will do what I need

       to leave.

dial pt 2.

I call you to hear 

your voice 

on your 

voicemail,

It keeps me going

but I know that is not

your real tone,

it’s not that I forget to 

leave a message

It is that,

I’m afraid of hearing,

voicemail box full

so I hang up 

the phone

lost

Being lost in self doubt is absolutely terrifying. 

The wind chases you without letting you breathe, 

      not even for a minute. 

  It’s catching up to you.

    You have no choice but to render your walls, and 

        to consider your surroundings. 

There’s a tornado outside, and I’m lost. 

  Wherever I go, the world spins. 

      And it’s spinning fast. 

I’m not ready, but 

   I should be. 

You can find Dylan on Instagram and Twitter.

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