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Mar 2018 · 267
I
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
I
We climb mountains in silence
And cross oceans in solitude,
Yet we never begin to consider as to why it must be..
Why must we go on in agony
And feel so much angst,
When someone or something shows us that it could be different,
Why can we not let it be different?
Mar 2018 · 609
Only For A Night
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
The darkest hours of the night,
is where the devil inside of me
comes out to play,
so I suppose
there are really no words to describe or say,
what it means to me,
that you turned darkness into light..
how you turned my devil into an angel, even if it was only for a night.
Mar 2018 · 344
.
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
.
I wonder,
is it the flowers we plant,
or the ones we pick that define us?
Mar 2018 · 190
.
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
.
I wonder...
if God is love,
then how can love exist?
Mar 2018 · 282
Inebriated Introspection
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
you sip upon your sadness,
like its the sweetest thing in the world,

you create mixed drinks of anguish and solitude,
believing that with each sip you are escaping reality,
when in reality,
you are sinking deeper into your own despair.
darling you are not drunk, you are drowning
Feb 2018 · 199
Tell me,
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
is heaven as white and as pure as the roses we placed upon your casket?
Or is it slightly off like the one I was handed before we lowered you into the ground?
Were your tears raindrops? Falling slowly from the skies of your eyes, and becoming faster with time?
Or were they like snowflakes, holding multiple raindrops in each one?(so much sorrow)
If they were like snowflakes then I understand why you chose to depart...I know that you always hated the snow.
But tell me, if you went to hell, are the flames as red as the roses that filled the funeral home? Or are they more red-orange like the rose given to your friends mother? she regrets not coming to say goodbye, but I think that she feared her raindrops would turn to snowflakes
And do their flames consume you, like the scent of the roses? Or do they let you be, like you wished the misery would have before you left?
I have screamed and cried at the sky hoping and waiting for a reply....but still have gotten no answer.
Feb 2018 · 165
silence,
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
has always sounded so ******* loud,
especially the first day without you here,
i swear to god, it screamed until its lungs gave out.
Feb 2018 · 188
Classroom Conversations
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
."Which color would you choose to have not exist and why?"
"gray or black, because they are both really sad"
"yellow, because it's far too bright"
"red, because it represents evil"

I've always admired how other's perceive the world, especially in terms of the obliteration of things. The justification for this obliteration however, is not as admirable as it is intriguing. In terms of colors, it actually seems to be quite tragic.

Without black or gray
I am afraid there would be no other way for my paint to say;
**** every source of light in the world; it's all a facade,
I would rather risk burning in hell then admit there is a God,
because he lit candles for me and drew me into his cave,
but I did not get very far before he blew them out, and turned his "kingdom" into my grave
Do not tell me that God is light or that he is love,
because in terms of what exists, it is none of the above,
And do not tell me that you do not want, "gray or black because they're sad"
because I need them to portray the neglect I have felt from my dad
and the way my mother used to say we would always be together
and draped always in forever
but soon began tearing the fabric with every word and every scar
branded in my memory, on my skin, and in the depths of my heart


So please do not wish them to be gone...
Without them how would anyone be able to hear the color of yellows song?

Oh, without yellow
I am afraid the sun would no longer say hello
And the world would be quite dull,
The sun could not take away the cold
And the world would be left gray and black,
although there is not much of a problem with that,
at least for me,
because the world inside my head is already quite dreary,
but what about those children who oh so adore the bees
and who smile back at yellow flowers among many trees,
or what about when my grays and blacks start to dissipate
and I search for yellow, so I can learn to love instead of hate,
or what about the daisies and the sunflowers that I deeply adore,
why without the color yellow then they would be no more
I understand that you may want to rid the darkness in the world, but do not wish for the demise of sunshine and light,
even if at times you think they are far too bright.
Although there are people like me,
who find this hope and happiness hard to see,
there are people searching for it or basking in its glow,
so do not take away the only thing that can dispose of the cold


Now without gray or black,
and without us smiling at the sun, while yellow smiles back,
how would we know red?
the color that occupies our bodies, from our toes to our head

Ah red
Perhaps if you did not exist then many who I love would not be dead,
perhaps if you were not there,
to release the despair,
they held within their veins,
then I would be able to hold them while we listen to the rain,
but I know I still need you, and without you I'd cry,
because I adore when the gray kisses my skin and you always say hi,
and you have always been both a warning and an end,
although no matter how many times you say hello, I always just pretend,
that your warnings are greetings, and even when you scream at me that the end is near,
I act as though I cannot hear,
Red is evil
Well, maybe they're right
But there are many evils in this world, like the devils that make their home in my head during the night
or the voices that creep their way in my bed,
and without them I am sure I would be dead,
because they comfort me and they are my friends,
just as lovely and as wonderful as the color red

not only I, but we need colors such as these to feel. we need them because without one color nothing would be the same, even other colors would lose their contrast or hue. we need them because even though they may be associated with sadness, evil, or annoyance, they are an important part of the world's painting. so although you may not enjoy a particular shade, do not wish for it to go away, because without them nothing would be the same.
Feb 2018 · 295
Mortality's Melody
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
E m p t y,
Is how I feel,
But not what I am,
So I now know why I feel so wrong,

And no wonder, that
E m p t y i n g
Myself
Has sounded
So sweet, like a
Beautiful love *song
Feb 2018 · 186
if only...
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 · 277
Amour
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
Feb 2018 · 157
The Gardener
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.
Feb 2018 · 125
Sunshine
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?
Feb 2018 · 3.2k
Untitled
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?
Feb 2018 · 206
fantômes dans les murs
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.
Feb 2018 · 148
Apparition
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
Feb 2018 · 129
Departure
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.
Feb 2018 · 238
Tsunami
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
It came crashing down like a tsunami on the shore of my soul
One second it was quiet and calm
And the next I am swimming helplessly, struggling to stay afloat
Listening closely to the sound of your voice, as if it was a psalm

And did I dare swim into the depths,
Although I knew not what laid below?
Or, did I stay swimming forward, taking shorter breaths,
Waiting to get consumed by its darkness slow

And the distance between us spoke to me
As it became harder to hear your song
Its tempting whispers beckoning me deep into the sea
Its words echoing in my mind like the sound of a gong

Should I have searched for you in the storm, among the debris?
Or is it better that I gave into the distance, allowing it to pull me beneath.
Feb 2018 · 194
On the Edge of Forever
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2018
Sitting on the edge of forever
Below awaits eternity
To jump would be quite the endeavor

Perhaps if I were more clever,
I would understand the void inside of me
Sitting on the edge of forever

It does not matter the weather
For here I wait alone, silently listening to the sound of every tree
Below awaits eternity

Leaping to the ground, to my life it would sever
But who knows what I may see
Sitting on the edge of forever

To live and be alive, really is whatever
And if I do not go now, I will never be free
Below awaits eternity

But I must decide soon, if not now then never
Maybe I will go on the count of three,
Sitting on the edge of forever
Below awaits eternity
Jan 2018 · 179
Nights
Elizabeth Oyibo Jan 2018
As the sun leaves the sky
And the day turns to night,
I face a blank canvas
And paint whatever comes to mind

Sometimes its a picture that may almost look real,
But more often than sometimes is a mixture colors
Blended in such a way that portrays what I feel,

Acrylic, oil, or watercolor
All serve the same purpose,
  Regardless of the medium the piece will be like no other
As I cover every inch of the white surface.

Whether it gets completed or not
Does not matter for that's not the point,
Only what was able to be produced
And on the canvas I was able to anoint.

But soon the moon says goodbye,
And the sun once again begins to rise
And as the paint begins to dry
I realize I have met my untimely demise.
I once spent an entire summer locked away in my room because I was too sad to see the day and so this is how I spent my nights.
Jan 2018 · 225
The Fear of Drowning
Elizabeth Oyibo Jan 2018
Your eyes consume me,
Their blue shade like waves of a tsunami on the shore of my heart,
Devouring every inch of it,
And engulfing my soul,

And suddenly I am swimming helplessly,
trying my best not to sink into your depths,
Because although I desire too,
There is far too much rubble and debris,
And if I were to attempt to reach the bottom,
Or even just try to see,
I would surely drown,
So I must stay on your surface.
I wish I did not fear drowning.
Jan 2018 · 273
Empty Containers
Elizabeth Oyibo Jan 2018
The thing about something being empty,
is that it more often than sometimes it can be used again.
That even when what it was once meant for goes away,
It is given a new purpose

I learned this from opening countless, I can’t believe it’s not butter containers,
Only to actually to say,
**** I can’t believe it’s not butter
in this container, it’s last nights casserole,

Oh, and who could forget those cookie tins,
That I swear to god I have never seen an actual cookie in,
Only sewing needles and thread,

And so from this,
In my mind I concluded,
nothing could ever truly be empty.
There was always something that could fill these empty containers,
and give it a purpose once again
Nothing could ever be empty,
At least not forever.

But,
I never realized that those were somethings and you were someone,
And that when a soul leaves a body, its never coming back,
And nothing is coming to replace it,
It will remain empty,
Forever.

And I suppose that’s why when I saw your empty body laying there,
I could not understand,
How something could be so full,
And then be so empty so quickly,
Where did it all go?
I guess through your emptiness,
I also realized that things can be full, and also empty,
Because my soul still fills my body,
But I am so ******* empty

— The End —