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Elizabeth Oyibo Jan 2019
my life was titled a tragedy before I could even talk, and
before I could even walk, I somehow walked into the arms of misery, and
soon despair would come for me,
knocking at my door,
before I even knew what existence was,
I knew I wanted it no more, and
even after all these years I only crave the end,
dreaming of my own demise, wishing I was dead.
Elizabeth Oyibo Jan 2019
bullets break more than just bones, they
break brains, hearts, souls, and homes, they
stay in guns claimed to be emptied and then take a soul, they
make sure certain people will never grow old, they
make warm hearts turn ice cold, they
make hearts stop beating constructed of gold,
they
empty the bodies of the bold, and
in the end, they make you feel so alone,
because they take away the ones you love the most.
Rest In Peace Anthony Ryan Taylor (1998-2018) Catwang Forever
Elizabeth Oyibo Aug 2018
I really don't want to be this way,
I'm tired of being dragged throughout each day, tired
of allowing every flower in my garden to slowly decay, tired
of knowing that not everyone and everything will stay, tired
of watching the sun fall instead of watching it rise, and I'm
tired of waiting for the day I meet my demise, I'm
over feeling like I'm constantly being buried alive, like
I'm always six feet deep,
in my own ******* misery
.
Elizabeth Oyibo Jul 2018
you once were an ocean,
still and calm, holding such deep beauty, and
you were mysterious as no one knew what lay deep below you waters, and so
I dove into the depths unsure of what I sought, yet
what I found was beautiful, it
was without a doubt extraordinary, yet
oceans don't stay still for long, and
when the wind in your sky got too strong, hurricanes
of sadness would form, and
tsunamis of sorrow would wash onto your shore, yet
I stayed, and
soon your warm waters froze over, and
you created icebergs, a
product of your past and present tragedies, something
that causes unintentional harm, and
they did, they
drowned me within your ocean, and
your tsunamis washed me onto your shore, and
so now I lay here lifeless on the land, waiting
for something or someone to save me before I get buried, six
feet deep beneath the sand.
Elizabeth Oyibo Jun 2018
your past tragedies cradle you like a child,and
i suppose that no matter how hard I try to pull you out of their arms, and into my own, you
will never be able to depart because
being wrapped in tragedies arms is what you think of as home.
it’s a shame that the only thing you’ll allow to consume your mind is pain.
  May 2018 Elizabeth Oyibo
Wind Lass
I dealt death today.

I know it’s a part of the job.
I know I’ve seen it too many times to count.
But today,
I felt it.

I left the room long after their family did.
There was no where I could go
To escape their

Roaring grief.

They were long gone.
And I was left with their precious baby.
I curled his arms and legs up
Closed his eyes
Wrapped him up gently.
With love and respect
Here he’ll sleep forever.

And oh,
They are so thankful,
That it was me
That I understood
That I was so careful
That I spent the time with them.

And you’re not supposed to take it with you.
You’re supposed to leave it
When they walk out the door
With one less goodbye.

But I took it with me today.

The way they felt before
The way they felt after
The long quiet goodbyes
The man in a suit on his knees weeping
The mother and son making a cocoon
Sheltering their dying baby.
The solemn face of the woman who plays god.
The green death.
The last breath.
The heaving of the living as he gave his last.
The waiting.
Slower rhythm.
Quieter.
‘He’s gone now’.

I watched the clock
The same way I had
An hour before
Waiting for death.

Soon as I could
I fled out the door
Ran into the street
Tried to outrun it

Instead I ran to you
I dialled your number
With shaking hands

I know I’m not supposed to
But all I wanted was you
Your voice

Ringing out
Thankfully
I wept alone.

Today I dealt death
And I found I am not strong enough
To sustain this
Alone
Or for long.

I found I still consider you my haven
Deep down
But that you are not my haven anymore
Or should be.

I listened to the silence
After the call rang out
And decided
What will I do when I hit the last straw? What becomes of me and my useless brain? This was too much today. I wish I didn’t want you. I’ve made an obsession out of you.
Elizabeth Oyibo May 2018
silent silhouettes spoke to me under the silver moon, and
in those moments of remorse, your
bones bled the promises you broke, and
your silence screamed every word you never spoke, the
agony your heart holds crept its way out of its cage, and
in this moment of my weakness, it
maneuvered its way among the rubble and the debris, every
shattered, bent, and broken piece of me, it
somehow found its way into my heart, and
it has chosen to remain, ever since you chose to depart.
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