Gentle, insistent bleeps,
Hinges groan and creak,
My muscles tense.
This house is so full,
A time capsule of lives;
Moments lived and breathed,
Now immortalised and drifting away,
Garments of children
Long since gone
And changed from all recognition,
Shelves littered with ornaments
And old trophies mocking their winners.
We are tortured and plagued
By the memories which eye us
Eerily from every shelf and cupboard,
Poisoning the stifling air
Until a heavy hand comes down,
Pounds on stiff leather.
Occupants jump, hearts leap
The silence breaks – without release.
Those framed memories,
They take on a new sheen.
Frozen smiles now too stretched,
Casually slung arms;
Questionably stiff, formal, posed.
The happy group?
Now, almost comical,
Pale, fragile and holding their breaths,
Figures, now abandoned,
Suspended in time
Longing to be forgotten.
My lungs are burning,
A fierce, fiery pain
Stops me from thoughtless breathing.
A sharp ache rattles my chest
As I heave, a heavy reluctant breath.
My legs; stiff and cramping,
Cry out for each and every step,
As I trudge wearily away from my bed.
My throat rasps; uncomfortable,
Every word grating on sandpaper,
Each vowel terse and spiteful,
Scratches and pokes it’s way to my mouth.
But these are my reminders,
Short-term souvenirs, feeding me
Memories of the night before,
When I let go,
Unshackled my battered, caged heart
And sung and screamed;
A whole other person taking over me,
A voice I hadn’t heard for years
The girl of my childhood
Bouncing with joy,
Not hiding or second guessing,
But plainly professing,
My love for my best friend next to me
And the other fans of my favourite band,
Who poured their hearts out,
Vulnerable in an arena of thousands,
Connected by our emotion
Shared for songs that mean something,
To this family of our own making.