POETRY
“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
Part of being a good sad person
is always painting the shadows
in the right direction and knowing
what sorrow to art with.
my love is a glass shard, a knife made of madness and moonlight,
and there are already way too many fragments in this house
Empty vessels
make the most sound, I think,
as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.
I imagine that undressing a color, though, would be so much like peeling a memory away from the grey and the white matter of your brain.
I slumped in front of a massive desk, a passive patient corroded with failure and dread.
here is the sky in stop motion, flickering,
a still shot in monochrome
I would always rather be happy than
dignified. Rather held than held
in awe.
the strands of your hair on the bathroom tiles aren’t sketching defeat. that’s you spitting disease in the face with another day you’ve woken up to.
It recommended
soft porn, as gentle prodding and petting parent
to parent might calm and soothe the kid.
Yes I am guilty, I’m guilty. A sin was desirable then.
Bring the dancer back to the stalks.
Dylan Krieger’s poetry is unflinching, grotesque, and beautiful. Her work tackles trauma, wrestles authority, and is a decadent sonic feast.
Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.
