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Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
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I wonder,
is it the flowers we plant,
or the ones we pick that define us?
.
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
.
I wonder...
if God is love,
then how can love exist?
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
I fell into the trap once again,
as I was w a n d e r i n g,
through the ill forest of your mind,
and so I will sit here quietly,
waiting for you to free me........"
Will you ever let me go.
16
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
16
.although my mother is not apart of my life, in my sixteen years of existence she has still managed to teach me sixteen things
.........................................................­..........................
1. When you crawl towards hope in the dark, make sure it is not the devil in disguise....oh mother dear you always seemed to dress it in the most loveliest of fabrics and the softest of silks, making it seem so desirable.....how could I have known?....
2. Never leave the dinner table until you are finished....those words seemed to speak more to the demons in my brain than to me because, every night they have their feast and they never leave until they have finished consuming e v e r y i n c h o f m y   m i n d
3. Actions speak louder than words, and mother dearest believe it or not, the marks you left on my skin and the scars on my heart have always been able to scream louder than you ever did
4. The eyes are the window to the soul and they speak their own language that often times is hard to understand.....perhaps if I were to have been able to understand the words your eyes spoke, then I would have been able to hear them say you did not love me before your mouth ever did
5. You must obey and no is not an option... I wish you never would have taught me this out of everything, for perhaps if I knew differently I would have been able to let the words slip from my mouth as his lips caressed my skin....if only he had looked into my eyes, although I am sure he would not have been able to understand what they were saying anyways
6. I am a hoarder...but instead of collecting clothing and art, I now collect my misery and regrets because its all that you left
7. Punishment must be given to those who do bad things...or perhaps its simply bad people...I mean it must be bad people or a combination of the two because you always rewarded almost everything I did with punishment....and still no matter how hard I try, nothing is good enough
8. Do not bother trying to plant flowers within the graveyards of your brain because the dead parts of you have nothing to offer...is that why you tried murdering every inch of my mind?
9. Always is valueless and forever does not exist
10. I love you is like the ocean, something so beautiful and that I rarely get to experience..... so you'd tell me you loved me and lure me into your waters but, I only ever drowned
11. By the age of eleven, unconditional love can become conditional and when you do not achieve perfection or meet certain standards...then you do not deserve love, you do not deserve anything...and no matter what, I believe I deserve nothing at all
12. Happy Birthday is said to good children who respect their mothers....thank god I have never valued the day I was born
13. God is love...but you showed me that love does not exist, so tell me how can there be a God?
14. Your body is not a temple, it is a cave.. and everyday your words sent sparks to the dynamite within me...waiting for the day where my walls would  c o l l a p s e
15.  Your addictions will lead to countless contradictions but they are the only thing that will ever love you so, hold on tightly......eventually they will carry you home
16.  Always forgive and forget...now I always tried to forgive you, always....but tell me, how can I ever forget what you have branded into my memories..?
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
I can only recollect the moments....before, during, and after,

before.....
we were laughing so hard I felt like I couldn't breathe,
and my stomach, it hurt so bad the pain was almost unbearable,
I was crying too, we were both crying,
to the point where she begged me to stop because it was hard for her to see....
and moments before,
we saw the lights of a cop car, and
at first I was going to say go straight to avoid it, but
I didn't, so we turned left and were
hoping that we would not catch their attention,
but we did....
because in that moment,
we both saw two lights,
ones that were red and blue,
and the others attached to the front of a street sweeper,
and I remember screaming stop, because
these things only happen in movies and on t.v. shows, and
I don't know why but seconds before we would collide,
I actually believed that we could avoid it,
but our fate had already been determined...


during...
I don't remember screaming,
I remember the sound, the adrenaline, and the feeling of us colliding,
the second I knew we were going to hit it, I closed my eyes,
and when I opened them again I was in a dream, my
chest felt heavy and all I could see was the shattered window shield,
the airbags, and
I could feel a heavy pain on my chest,
she turned and said "oh my god I'm so sorry",
all I could manage to get out was that I needed to get out, we
were on the curb,
and had encountered what we were trying to avoid because,
we definitely caught the cops attention, and


after....
for some reason in my mind I felt as though I had to act like nothing was wrong, I
suppose I was in shock, but
I remember saying I was okay, but questioning whether I really was or not, the paramedics
checked my vitals and said I was good, but
it did not feel that way, and
I could not bring myself to look at her because she was displaying all of the emotions that I couldn't, all of the emotions that
made it real, and I tried
to say I love you and it was okay, but
I could barely make out the words, my dad took me
to the emergency room and, everything felt even less real, we
arrived and I remember listening closely to their conversation, "my
daughter has just been in a car accident", I
gave her my social security number and she got the rest of the information from my father, and
I remember listening closely, making sure he got it all correct, he
got my date of birth off, by a day,
she put my wristband on and a file in a slot, we sat down and waited, only for a second because in a second, a man
in all blue,
picked up the file and welcomed us in, I

remember getting my weight taken, should I
put my phone down will that affect it? I didn't,
I held it and then followed him into the next room, I
laid down on the bed and he, took my vitals again, I
remembered I took a picture of the ones they took in the ambulance, and they said I should show it to them, but I
couldn't talk unless I had to, I
couldn't move unless I had to, I remember
hearing laughter in the next room and thinking of how this, this
can not all be real, there's people
happy and smiling yet I can't get to where they are, I
can't even begin to think of how they got to a place where everything is okay, at least in that moment, but
the doctor came and then someone to take an X-ray, one
by one they came in and out, each telling
me something new, I
remember looking at the clock and noticing how fast the hand moved, they
asked what time it happened, but
I remember Emily texted me when we got off the highway, 10:25,
it takes about ten minutes to get to my house,
how bad was it, I
showed him the picture, "you're lucky
you were wearing your seatbelt, tell
your friends to wear theirs," as
if I am now a walking advertisement, and
they scanned my wristband, as if
I am like a box of cereal, like
the ones I ring up at my job, I
did not feel human, and
we left, I went home and wanted to sleep but,
everything kept replaying in my head, everything
keeps replaying in my head, the before
the way we were laughing, the thought of almost dying nowhere on our minds, the during,
my scream of warning, the cop coming over, the paramedics, the headlights...
the headlights, I swear I can still see them coming towards me in the dark, and after,
the hospital, the smell, my

nurse smelled like someone I once adored, how strange,
and I keep replaying everything in my head, I
can't believe that neither of us is dead
.
Lindsey I love you.
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
I am not alive,
although I am breathing, moving, seeing, touching,
I am not alive.

I pour my sorrow into the hands of the unholy
because they make me feel less lonely,
I cling to these addictions I adore,
because I can never help but to want more.

I have become a slave to my body,
i m p r i s o n e d in this flesh longing to be free,
because on this planet there is nothing left for me.
I know I promised you I would stay,
but if I want to be free there is truly no other way.
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
just f l o a t through my brain,
and when I am able to somehow quietly rearrange
and place them on a page,
I suppose in some w e i r d way
it makes me feel less insane,
it helps to release some of the pain
that has been t r a p p e d in a cage,
and so although what I may say
might not make sense tomorrow or today,
or may lead to your dismay,
it is what helps get me through each day,
and keeps me alive,
so even if you do not understand, what or why I write, that is okay.
I refuse to write for anyone but myself.
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 Apr 2019
these bones trap my soul, like
a bird in a cage it longs to be set free, from
all of the pain and the misery, it
longs to soar into the sky and into the sun, to
kiss the clouds and feel the light, but yet
flesh and bone reject its request for freedom, I wonder
if it will ever escape this labyrinth of suffering.
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 Apr 2018
."I'm sorry I broke your heart", oh
what a silly thing to say because, you
can not break something that is already b r o k e n, perhaps
you can shatter one of the pieces, making
it harder to reassemble, but
you can not break it, you
can not break me because I am already broken beyond repair.
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 May 2018
you did not pour your love onto me, you
poured gasoline, and
the spark, the
beginning of something I thought would light up my life, lit
me on fire.
I am nothing but ashes now.
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.
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.
Elizabeth Oyibo May 2018
why is it only death that I desire?
why is it o n l y,
the thought of her carrying me away from this world,
this world full of emptiness and despair,
the only thing that sets my soul on fire?
please, wherever you wish to take me I do not care,
as long as it is not here, please I beg of you, take me there
.
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
God forgive me,
if you even exist,
please allow me to have your ever so sought after holy privileges.
Dig me a whole at the gates of heaven and bury me there,
six feet deep next to your kingdom, in a casket of my despair,

So close to getting in,
but I am afraid, I have too much adoration for sin.
So as I am floating in this ocean should I sink or should I swim?
and if I called for you, would you offer me your hand or just push me deeper in?
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
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 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 May 2018
I tend to my garden of loneliness,
planting seeds of solitude and watering them with words of wisdom, yet,
they do not grow,
although the sun shines upon them day after day,
and they feast upon droplets of rain,
they stay miniscule,
perhaps it is meant to stay desolate forever.
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.
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?
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.
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.
II
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
II
But what is sadness and what is sorrow?
Do we dare to define them, or allow them to define us?
And shall we allow them to determine whether or not we see tomorrow?
III
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
III
You are like the sun up in the sky,
you hurt me when I get too close,
but I need you to survive.
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
In the depths of the forest I know you stay hiding,
I have searched for you my dear but I just can not seem to find where you are residing,
If the trees could speak, would they tell me the truth or would they be lying?
Their fable whispers blowing in the wind, or soaring through the sky like a bird that is flying.....
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
So many ways to tell this story
                                   So many d e t a i l s that could help explain
Like the nights where I stayed up,
                             only comforted by the soft sound of the rain
or all the times I decided that b l a d e s would be the best way
                                     to
                                           relieve
                                                     the
                                                          pain­
           But I am sure you do not care
                                            Because what does that matter now?
                           I am gone and I am not coming back.
you can't save me.
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
IV
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
IV
I am not the sun.
Do not misconstrue me as so.
I am not the moon, I am not the stars,
I am no where in the galaxy,
I am a flower,
wilting away in the garden of loneliness,
and you, you are the sun, the moon, and the stars,
you help me grow and make me feel warm like the sunshine should,
and captivate me and comfort my soul, like the moonlight,
and you shine brighter than all the stars.
I wish I didn’t adore you
IX
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
IX
Every minute. Every pill,
Every second, oh the thrill
of not knowing whether it is I,
or the bottle that will become empty first.
It is a shame only one can be filled again.
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
And I suppose I still miss how we drank the moonlight,
how we never felt trapped by time
and instead banished them away, within

those moments I was hypnotized,
by the scent of your skin,
the flow of your hair,
and your eyes, yes your eyes, I

suppose in a way I was not free at all
because as your eyes greeted mine,
they captured me there,
and although I was not imprisoned by the human construct of time,
I was imprisoned by something new, something

beautiful and oh so blue,
your eyes were swallowing me,
and they trapped me in that room.
Although I still adore you,
these actions resulting from inebriation and adoration are nothing to adore,
please just let me go,
I can not handle this pain anymore.
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
Elizabeth Oyibo Sep 2019
meet me on the edge of loneliness,
and i will push you over the edge,
into my pit of despair.
you
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.
Elizabeth Oyibo Mar 2018
It's sort of funny how two souls can intertwine,
how they can greet each other upon the edge of loneliness
with kisses and longing,
and how they can promise to never jump over the edge,
how it is not the someone, but the something between the two that keeps them grounded,

And this force, this unknown attraction, can carry them through the night until the sun says hello,
or guide them through the day until the moon tells them it is time to be one again.

But,

tell me.....
what kept us stuck there in that space for so long?
we knew it was not love, I suppose it was the longing,
but all I know is that we both kept the promise,
we never jumped,
I never did,
but yet here I am, in this pit of despair because you pushed me.

I suppose there is no force strong enough, that can keep two people together,
oh silly me,
how could I have forgotten that nothing lasts forever?
how could I not have known what before us did lie,
how could our departure have came as a surprise,
how could I not have known....
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.
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
Elizabeth Oyibo May 2018
how do you do that please I would love to know, how
you take something that has been b r o k e n, beaten, and
abandoned, and
find a way to further the damage, please
I would love to know how you obliterate something that has already been obliterated, please
tell me how you burn ashes and turn them to nothing, please
tell me how you find a way to **** something that is already dead, please explain how,
you take a category five hurricane, and increase it times ten, tell me
how you make something empty even emptier than when you began, how
you freeze something that is already frozen, please
tell me how you broke my heart when it was already broken.
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2019
but what am I, other
than a pile of bones and some flesh, composed
of past sorrow and debris, watered
with my tears and feasting on the small slivers of sunlight that come from time to time.
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
My adoration for you is like fresh picked roses,
Beautiful and lovely,
Yet dying every second because,
no matter how fresh the water in the vase is,
or how much the sunshine may kiss them,
they are wilting away,
and there is no force on earth that can allow them to avoid their demise.
I hate the scent of roses.
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.
sky
Elizabeth Oyibo May 2018
sky
cotton candy clouds of calm swirl into my skies, sometimes
the dark parts of me can be subdued momentarily, and
when they are, it is beautiful, it
is something that paralyzes people with its beauty, and
something that touches the heart of the unholy, it's only
ever something that occurs rarely, yet when it does I
cling to it, like a child to its mother, because
who knows when i will see another sky, a sky
that is not filled with darkness and lacking so much light, a sky
that does not disregard the day and settles in the night, a sky
that although holds the Venus lining, is still smiling
at the world, unapologetic in its beauty, you see
my happiness, my light, my flourishing garden, is like the sunset, it
is so short, so sweet, so beautiful, but can never escape the inevitability of darkness, it
will always fade into the night, gone, lost, without a sight.
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 May 2018
I am sure that somewhere among the wilting and lonely parts of myself, somewhere
six feet deep within the graveyards of my brain, there
is something to be salvaged, something
that can grow again, something
that can save me, but
I suppose it is simply a matter of whether or not I choose to search, whether
or not I think it is worth searching, whether
or not I think that I am worth saving, and
as of right now I do not think so, but
somewhere happiness does lie, and
perhaps I will find it someday, whether
I choose to live or die.
Elizabeth Oyibo Feb 2019
.anyone can be apart of my life if they wish to be, but
my soul is like the vast open sea that only a few wish to dive into, only
a few can ever understand why the water flows the way it does, and
only a few dare to discover the depths, yet still,
among the few that do, they
fail to follow my one request, to
be cautious when diving into the depths, and so
still,
they choose to leave, and
still my waters will be, for
it is not their absence that I will ultimately miss, for
things that are meant to be will be, and
in the end it is what is best for me.
it is the fact that I was not worth something so simple.
Elizabeth Oyibo May 2018
every night, we
drew blood from the moon, and
allowed it's silver pools, to
fill the cups in which we drank from in order to immerse ourselves in our own delusions, we

hid underneath a blanket of stars, tending
to the loneliest parts of ourselves, I
would pick the flowers from my garden, and
I would plant them in yours, I

would knock upon doors in your mind, hoping
something inside you would find the strength to open up, but
most of the time they remained shut, and

I have always wandered through forests and oceans, searching
for pieces of myself, yet
within you I found a few, and
I also found something else, within

you I found both heaven and hell, I
found both graveyards and gardens, I
discovered the sun and the moon, and
I discovered it within me too, yet

it seems that often times I misconstrued what you said you saw in me, I
knew that I have always been a tragedy, an
abandoned garden, decaying
and destined to never flourish again, yet

I thought you had found a spot in my ground in which you could plant yourself, in
which you could grow and despite the parts of my garden that are withering away, you
had found a reason to stay, but

I was wrong because the only door you ever opened was one that did not reside in either of our minds, but
a door that was in my life, and
you walked out.
Elizabeth Oyibo May 2018
dark clouds cover the sunshine in the dismal sky of my mind, creating
thunderstorms of sadness that spiral out of control and suddenly,
suddenly the flowers I have been trying to grow, and that
I thought would be helped by the rain regardless of its abundance,
are drowning,
they're dying from the very thing that was supposed to help them, and
I do not think they can ever be saved.
Elizabeth Oyibo Apr 2018
nothing feels real, it all feels like a dream,
like I have been watching my life from the e y e s of another,
will I ever be at peace?
oh how I wonder,

how I lay here and ponder what it would be like,
if I had enough power to speed up,
fast forward through life,
and escape right now, for it is far too much

I can not bear these feelings and flashbacks,
the feeling that I have died,
like life is full of nothing but crap,
and like my brain is completely fried.

tell me, why did it not take my life,
why was I not given back to the sky?
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