REMNANTS Mandy Gutsell

I can see the chinks in the light,

Just peeping through the slats.

I can see you, but you can’t see me.

It feels powerful, naughty, a secret.

I can see my chinks in the armour,

Reflecting light on us both.

Covering them up so you can’t see them.

Not giving you chance to see the vulnerabilities,

The sadness, the deep angst and questions.

Questions unanswered,

Secrets covered,

Lies upon lies to cover the shame.

The shame and embarrassment,

You walked into a lamppost.

But you definitely didn’t see the light.

The only lights you saw were the lights of the oncoming traffic,

The traffic and noise in your head.

The chatter, suspicions and paranoia.

The paranoia they are going to kill me,

I am killing me,

I am killing us,

We have been killing each other for a long time.

The killing of time, of dreams, of respect and dignity.

The killing of life as we know it,

Life as it could have been.

Life to live, to love, to feel your heartbeat entwined with mine,

With them and us.

Dying to live rather than living to die.

Living a life of slow death.

The drip, drip, drip of life being squeezed and squashed out of you

Until there is no more.

What’s left are the remnants, the ashes, the afterlife.

A life in which the phoenix begins to gently, quietly and then increasingly with an immersing loud roar, rising from the ashes.

The ashes that show you have been burnt and tainted,

The ashes that leave their mark.

Like the marks in an ashtray,

The nubs that show what once was,

The burn marks, the tar and discolouration,

The taste of stale air.

The air that once breathed fresh life into those it touched,

The same air that eventually took your life.

Left remnants and scars on others’ lives,

Other lives to find their own reason to live.

To live beyond existing,

Existing for what feels like little purpose.

To go beyond and find purpose,

Purpose and meaning to this life, my life, our lives.

So, we can begin to live,

To breathe out the stale air and breathe in the fresh air,

The elixir of life.

The giver and creator of my life,

The many creators of our lives.

Who manifest and show when they are needed.

To give life, to live life, to grasp life,

To hold it both so tightly and yet so loosely,

To crush and suffocate.

To hold lightly and loosely in the palm of our hands,

To tend to it and allow it to breathe.

To breathe, to be still,

And know that I am.