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  Feb 2018 Elizabeth Oyibo
Skaidrum
...
Drew,
the ashtray is full again


1.)  As I write this to you now, the doves were bleeding diamonds
2.)  And to this very day, I still find your name is in every cigarette the ocean's ever smoked
3.)  I wonder if you remembered the time we realized that flowers preferred the taste of blood over water...
4.)  Or the time we sipped some of the moon's tea; and realized that our teacups were gifts from her lover, the sun
5.)  Distance isn't constant, it's overgrown like the lucid garden that I planted in honor of my wolf girl; yet you were the one who tended it with me as if it was your own
6.)  I know, I know; I didn't thank you enough for all those moments as you held me when time melted into puddles at my feet
7.)  I wrote God a simple letter, still haven't heard from him about how you're doing yet...
8.)  "Unfortunately, on some nights my grief tastes all too silver again"
9.)  You feared all the talents that flowered in the dark and I remember the second you realized I too, was one of them
10.)  Your voice shed sapphire fireworks in my room and what I wouldn't give to see that one more time
11.)  Sleepy roses dribbled down the walls of your hospital room whenever I visited and played with your hair
12.)  The milky way shed it's fickle skins-- and sometimes when the dawn's shoulders snap into place I can hear your laughter echoing along the ribs of the sky
13.)  Your name was a natural disaster born on my pink tongue and delivered by my quaking lips and I can feel the clouds turning in their sleep
14.)  I suppose that you were a cigarette yourself
15.)  And you knew I was the lighter, but you hung around anyways
16.)  Every time I see a shooting star, I'll know that it's you in heaven just throwing away your cigarette so you don't get caught...

I think you were my bad habit
...
You were oh so pretty, smokin' through the canopy


© Copywrite Skaidrum
  Feb 2018 Elizabeth Oyibo
cat
your lips
remind me
of the words
my hands
wish
they had the courage
to write
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
If the walls could speak,
I wonder what they would say.
Would they speak of when I am weak,
Or would they speak of my dismay?

And would you care to hear
Or would their words be far too much?
If you chose to do so please, do not get too near
For your soul they may clutch.
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
There are ghosts in your bones
And they crawl out at night,
Your body is their home
And your soul is their light
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
The eyes are the window to the soul,
At least that is what I have always been told,
But I was never made aware of the language that they speak
And how their words can make you grow weak
Or how they can freeze the world around them
And keep you in their grasp
Holding you there for what feels like forever
Although I am wise enough to know that nothing ever lasts,

So within them I begin to search, or at least try to understand
How sometimes they can pull me in quickly like a black hole,
Or consume me slowly, just like quicksand
But I still wander innocently through their forest,
And float helplessly in their universe, but they do not want me to see
What they are hiding beyond their stars, or keeping between their trees
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
Saying sorry does not make sense to me
and so I will give no apologies.
Perhaps the anger felt from my non-regrets,
will over power the anger you felt when I left
Or maybe they will become a mixed drink
One part sorrow
Two parts t r a g e d y
And a dash of wonder for what has become of me.
Papa just let me rest

Put my mind at ease
For the shards you use
To tear through my skin
Make me bleed

Oh it hurts so much papa

When your bullets plunder my heart
It beats feverently; an ill tuned symphony
Trying to mend itself again
A picture of flimsy patchwork

Papa clear the ground in front of me

The shards and thorns are making me weak
My feet can't take in your piercing anymore
They've gone from tan to scarlet
A fresh coat to paint over the marks I'm too ashamed to see

I beseech you one last time papa

Make the voices go away
The ones gnawing at my head
Telling me I'm not who you want me to be
Before I give myself to the demons who love me
The ones who claim to be the closest to you end up being the ones responsible for your destruction
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