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  Feb 2018 Elizabeth Oyibo
m
consistent contradictions
gambling away my
happiness to the gods,
or the devils,
i can never tell which
i can never tell which
witches are good
and which ones are bad
and i'm on the edge of
glory and humiliation.
consistent contradictions
of a woman whose heart
is not in her body but
within another's, whose
home is june and whose
jail is the present
presently prosecuting
my own **** fingers
for falling and failing
and fumbling for the
light switch
for faltering and
sweltering in the heat
of heaven or hell
i can never tell which.
i can never
tell
which.
anxiety and loneliness are a dangerous combination
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
i could build a staircase with my sorrow,
i swear i would climb to where you are,
and if i could create an ocean with my tears,
i would swim to you, no matter how far

oh if only i could turn my misery into metal
and perhaps create a rocket or car,
i would fly or drive to you my dear,
beyond the moon, and past the brightest star.
  Feb 2018 Elizabeth Oyibo
Skaidrum
Madness is where the true peace is.
Some people just aren't strong enough for sanity.
What makes you think you are?
Let me know in the comments.

© Copywrite Skaidrum
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
How silly that we dance underneath a blanket of stars
And do not consider that we may become tangled in its fabric,
Oh darling, I am afraid that if we are not cautious then we may suffocate.
a death produced from our own desires, how tragic
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
The gardener planted flowers within the graveyards of my brain,
Trying the bring life to the parts of me that are dead,
And they sit there silently, drinking up the rain,
Growing everyday and occupying space in my head

They are beautiful and lovely, smiling everyday
But they sip upon the sunlight too,
And I am afraid, I miss the warmth of each ray,
because without them I have turned blue.
Dying so that other things may grow I suppose is not too bad,
At least then I would have a purpose,
and perhaps I would not be so sad.
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
Sunshine, please kiss me one more time
Before you finally say goodbye,

The sky is crying as you choose to depart,
And the darkness is slowly blanketing my heart,

I do not know where these words have been,
I suppose they have been sleeping within the caves of my brain,
But they have awoken now,


So please do not go too soon,
I need your light so badly, and although I adore the moon
It can never be the same as you, you
make things grow, and when you come close
You melt the cold winter snow,
So how could I ever be content with your departure?
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
Addiction
......is a mountain that you do not have the strength to climb, but do so anyways....and you know that there is an avalanche..a moment of *collapse
and destruction....that is bound to happen at any moment in time, but you do not care because....the view is so beautiful
addiction* is letting your *highs carry you throughout the night because it's the only way you'll be able to greet the day and then allow your lows to drag you through it
addiction is small puddles of water in the desert that lead to a mirage in the distance, you continue drinking, believing that you are being led to your salvation only to realize it has all been an illusion
addiction itself is water, although it does not reside in the desert..it's in your stomach as opposed to food, because if you were to eat you would not only throw up the food, but also the truth
addiction is silence within classrooms....why speak out loud when you are already screaming at the temptation in your mind to leave you be..
addiction is a race between bank accounts and bodies..and its hard to tell which one will cross the finish line of complete emptiness first
addiction is skin clinging to bones like a baby to its mother....but its only ever perceived as beautiful
addiction is carrying vile poison in your veins, and so in your backpack you also carry blades because you never really know when the temptation will scream just a bit too loud..and the time will come to let it all out
addiction is locked doors and cold bathroom floors that you sit upon for hours contemplating your fate..
Addiction is what has carried the minds and souls of those I love to a far away place, and so I suppose I allow it to carry me now in hopes it will bring me to them someday...
Is there a heaven for an addict?
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