Oil On Paper

"You can be what you desire," Doubt utters From your lips But its wicked mouth is that Of a different language

Oil On Paper

 

It listens
Its words are slick,
Blotchy
“You can be what you desire.”
Oil on paper.

Lifting a high nose
Through half-lidded lashes,
Dusty window blinds.

You look in and
See
It breaks off self-worth
To only those who have stars
to count.

“You can be what you desire,”
Doubt utters
From your lips
But its wicked mouth is that
Of a different language,

“–there is nothing for you here,
In the land of the living.”

 

If you liked Oil On Paper, you will love Chelsea Yanga‘s previous work on The Ugly Writers:

the ugly writers

Chelsea Yanga

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