Keisha Felix: Poems

610 · Aug 2018

Keisha Felix Aug 2018

When I reflect back on past times with you
I don't get choked up on hurt like I used to.
Rather, I smile similes of what joy might feel like
And turn laughter into metaphors, I don't really know what for, but I imagine that you are happy.

When I reflect back on past times with you
I try to remember what it meant to me,
The feeling of comfort in a crowded room where everyone is screaming at me,
I wonder how long I ignored them at the expense of selling my weaknesses for your soul that doesn't reflect anything back anymore.

I cannot recollect all the memories because I burnt most of them the same way you set our love on fire, see I squeezed myself onto the flame like gasoline in an open field, I used my bones as match sticks, and lit them all simultaneously, I turned myself to ash, a cremation of good will and broken girls who fell in love with broken guys, see I burned for all of us.

When I reflect back on past times with you,
The remains of my heart emulate something close to beating, close to life, but our past times were just moments that passed us by a little too soon, who was I to know that you had no intent of staying, I wouldn't have built this home, a little too big for only me to occupy.

When I reflect back on past times with you,
I find my self in a state of constant whiplash, I am jetlagged from the high you gave me, I am not me without you.

So when I reflect back on past times without you,
I try not to cry because most of my life I spent with you, opening up, in more ways than one but you treated me like a Jack in the box, I was a joke to you.
I try to remember what my name sounds like when it's not you calling it, it doesn't feel the same because you gave meaning to the language that only you and I spoke. Now I am deaf to anything that isn't you.

When I reflect back on past times without you,
You are still there. You always were, even before.

#breakuppoetry

230 · Aug 2018

Day & Night

Keisha Felix Aug 2018

Day & Night

Sometimes,I am afraid of the dark.
Mostly because dark means night and night means nightmares and I cannot wake from you.
Your violent stares ripping through my body, you have tunnel vision, visualising all the ways in which you wish to ruin me, but I am the one doing all the ruining,
See sometimes I am afraid of the light.
Mostly because light means day and day means longer hours that are dragged out of me because there is so much of you in me.
I cannot escape from the cage you have locked me in, mostly because cage means world and world means big and big has never been anything I was apart of.
So I learn magic tricks that the moon thought me in the day or is it at night, I don't know, mostly because I have been awake too long, and not alive long enough.
I do not know how to live, when all I am is a body and body means jungle gym and that means that I am constantly being used as a gateway for someone else's fun.
It is dark now. You know what that means?
It means that another day has passed that I have spent, yet again, not living.

202 · Aug 2018

The last supper.

Keisha Felix Aug 2018

The last supper.

you swallow obligation like
a five-course meal, while
i choke on the bitterness of
disappointment.
your initials have become the
menu onto which my heart is dazed,
now all i am left with is the
aftertaste of our initial connection.

184 · Aug 2018

Safe Place

Keisha Felix Aug 2018

Safe Place

Why does it feel like I cannot come to terms with the inevitability of heartache?

My body is in the process of failing me, because the war inside my head is never-ending.
I am not your safe place.

My hands have become cowards, unable to hold onto the last little hope I see glimpses of.

Why does it feel like I have failed you?
I have dug myself out of the darkness, convinced that you were the light, but I cannot be that.
I am not your safe place.

Why does it feel like I am suffocating the both of us?
I hold my breath. I release it.
Have I given up? Is this me giving up?
Why is this lump in my throat bigger than me?

You cannot cry with me. Why is this room so quiet? The silence is deafening. I have become a war-zone, fighting demons that are not my own.

I am not your safe place. I am not love.
You are the epitome of dysfunction. I am poison.

Why can I not see further than this pit of brokenness I find myself in?
I am sorry. I am not your safe place

#sadpoetry #livingwithanxiety

172 · Sep 2018

If

Keisha Felix Sep 2018

If

If I had wings,
And you held me up
to the light,
You would not,
for one second,
think that I am an angel.

You see,
people like me?
We have wings,
But we do not fly,
because of cages
that have been built
long before we even
understood that we
are trapped,
inside ourselves.

People like me,
Don't just think (a lot)
we dream,
but never with
our eyes closed,
because we are
always prepared
for worst case scenario:
flight response.

People like me
see words as outcomes,
we are always one
sentence away from
our great escape.
We are euphemisms
for bad grammar
and we always get
graded an "F"

We have no full stops,
because we are safe
between the commas and
ellipses of life.
And sometimes,
People like me
hope that the
seizing of existence
can be hyphenated
because we are tired
of waiting for the end.

If I had wings,
I'd probably tear
them off and cut myself.

See, for people like me,
harm is second nature
And we're still
figuring out what is first,
because numbers remind us
of time,
and time reminds us
of how long we've been
broken and damaged and hurt
and still alive because yes,
we hate that too.

168 · Sep 2018

Lately

Keisha Felix Sep 2018

Lately

I've spent a
night with you,
a night where
hours fled at
cryptic speeds
and the earth
stopped turning
on its axis
because of the
***.

But lately
my hands spend
their nights
waving you back
into existence;
lately I've been
cracked open by
the fingeres you
used to trace my
***.

Lately,
all the nights
become one and
I scream whispers
of your name;
Lately you have
been in my throat,
again, and I cannot
swallow.

I am an ****** era.

164 · Aug 2018

We hate her.

Keisha Felix Aug 2018

We hate her.

There are cracks from
the remains of your soul.
Normally I would want to
avoid them, you know,
because of the CDO,
but with you, I want to fall,
through the cracks,
be swallowed whole
by the damage she did to it.

Facts: I want to climb inside,
And sit there for a while,
And say your favourite lines,
from your favourite book,
That you lost and don't want to find,
I want to tell her that we hate her.
we, because two merged as one,
The moment I laid my eyes upon
the scarlet letter written across
your skin,dark,and with permanent ink

I want to be wrapped up in your veins,
comforted by your blood stains,
The other day you described your ideal
moment of peace, so that's what I'll be,

I will become the perfectly green,
perfectly cut grass, and I will be the lightness of the waterfall behind the trees,
I will be nothing more than your death.
So that every. single. morning.
Our souls resurrect all over again.
And you forget she was ever there.

158 · Sep 2018

Momentos

Keisha Felix Sep 2018

Momentos

Some moments are more
real than others,
the days I drown in
your brown eye glitter,
they're real.
they're so real.
the days I choke on
regret because you're
not here anymore,
they're so real.
so hard to swallow.

Some moments last a
lifetime, and some,
only moments.
but now I carve the
remains of myself
from you and I.
those moments I crave.

Sometimes I still feel
a part of you, the moments
where I am whole and
nothing hurts and I feel
everything; the moments
that are beautiful
don't last forever.

The other day we had a moment
cold hands meets warm heart
and my tongue still hurts
from the heat of the coffee.
that moment is over.
I'll never get it back. ever.

And sometimes I loose sight
of my heart because it's still
lost, drowning in your
brown eye glitter.
I cannot shatter.

158 · Aug 2018

You are not you.

Keisha Felix Aug 2018

You are not you.

We are not the same anymore.
We are two seasons from different dimensions
Nothing feels the same anymore.
I am rushing to get away, standing still.
Still, I am not sane anymore.
Who am I not to forgive this?
Who am I to try and forget this?
I am not me anymore.
You have been screaming on deaf ears.
I cannot listen anymore.
This is not okay anymore.
You are not you.
This, is not love anymore.

153 · Sep 2018

Nostalic Nightmares

Keisha Felix Sep 2018

Nostalic Nightmares

It was all just a dream,
Wrapped with a blue ribbon,
Blue, my favourite colour
in the rainbow.

It was Picasso paintings
to a blind audience,
A standing ovation for
things we didn't understand.
We didn't need to,
I get that now.

Blue,
you are what I
imagine the sky tastes like.
I still hear the claps,
and it reminds me
of your hands,
The hands that
remind you of
your mother.

It was all dark clouds
on a sunny day,
Nostalgic nightmares
that made us smile,
You do that,
you know?
Smile, when I look at you.
Blue, my colour of happiness,
my colour of truth.

It was London weather,
all the time,
The kind that forced
you to stay inside
with yourself,
It was blurred lines,
and cracked mirrors,
Novacane on days
I felt most alive,
It was everything,
and then some.
It was all just a dream,
And I'm never
waking up from it.

— The End —