The Horror of Christmas Day
#1
I have a memory
and it's a rather loud memory
that plays at the front of my mind
all day long,
repeating like a song 
on the radio
that is a really bad one hit wonder.


The strangest thing about this memory
is that it hasn't happened yet
but I can see it
vividly,
like something being played on a screen
over and over
rewinding like the worst movie
that anyone has ever seen
and it makes me want to scream
and then curl up into a ball,
cry,
and promptly die.


I wonder
if this is what hell feels like
because this 
is my version of hell.


It starts like this.
It's a gloomy afternoon in December
and to be sure
it is one of the most perfect days
because I like gloomy days
more than ones in the heat
and I enjoy a day in December
far more than I've ever enjoyed
a day in the summer
because in December
there's Christmas
and Christmas is full of surprises.


So Christmas day rolls around
and I've unwrapped presents with the kids
and am sharing a moment that I never thought would exist,
one where I'm finally done facing my current problems,
and I decide to go for a stroll
sometime around three o'clock
and as I round the corner outside of the library,
I am in shock
to find
my worst nightmare
unfolding in front of my eyes
like a prize
that is well deserved.


As I gaze at the gazebo,
I gaze
upon the one that gazed at me
and for the first time in a while
I see,
his face lit up
and it takes me back
to that day
when it was just he and I
and the rush of summer that drifted by,
staying away from the rain
and I replay,
replay,
replay
the rain,
the pain,
but the happiness all the same
as what culminated
culminates
in the darkest part of my brain
and I feel like I'm going insane
while my mouth meets golden shores
and sands of sugar cane
so sweet that it would give you a toothache.


As I'm lost in the memory
I realize
that he hasn't seen me
but I also realize that I don't want him to
because there, 
as I try
to find words,
lies
a brunette with sparkling eyes
and golden thighs
and in my mind
I make a b-line
for anywhere else but here
but I'm stuck in place
because she's making him smile
and I,
I
used to be the one who did that
and as my heart pounds with a quickening pace
and my thoughts begin to race,
my mouth going dry with a bitter taste,
he turns his head and I stare in horror
as our eyes meet.


So, I turn and I bolt
around the corner
out of sight,
a tear running down my cheek
as I try to fight
the urge to go back and say something
because what is the point in saying something?
What is the use in saying something?


He doesn't love me anymore
and as my mind leaves the memory
that has never happened
I shudder
because I know it will happen
and it will probably happen soon.
It will probably happen soon.


I guess I'm just not over him.
Reply
#2
(09-20-2021, 01:39 PM)ISawASpaceship Wrote:  I have a memory

and it's a rather loud memory

that plays at the front of my mind

all day long,

repeating

like a song

on the radio

that is a really bad one hit wonder.





The strangest thing about this memory

is that it hasn't happened yet

but I can see it

vividly,

like something being played on a screen

over and over

rewinding like the worst movie

that anyone has ever seen

and it makes me want to scream

and then curl up into a ball,

cry,

and promptly die.





I wonder

if this is what hell feels like

because this 

is my version of hell.





It starts like this.

It's a gloomy afternoon in December

and to be sure

it is one of the most perfect days

because I like gloomy days

more than ones in the heat

and I enjoy a day in December

far more

than I've ever enjoyed

a day in the summer

because in December

there's Christmas

and Christmas

is full of surprises.





So Christmas day rolls around

and I've unwrapped presents

with the kids

and am sharing a moment

that I never thought would exist,

one where I'm finally

done facing

my current problems,

and I decide to go for a stroll

sometime around three o'clock

and as I round the corner

outside of the library,

I am in shock

to find

my worst nightmare

unfolding in front of my eyes

like a prize

that is well deserved.





As I gaze at the gazebo,

I gaze

upon the one that gazed at me

and for the first time

in a while

I see,

his face lit up

and it takes me back

to that day

when it was just he and I

and the rush of summer

that drifted by,

staying away from the rain

and I replay,

replay,

replay

the rain,

the pain,

but the happiness all the same

as what culminated

culminates

in the darkest part of my brain

and I feel

like I'm going insane

while my mouth

meets golden shores

and sands of sugar cane

so sweet

that it would give you a toothache.





As I'm lost,

in the memory

I realize

that he hasn't seen me

but I also realize

that I don't want him to

because there,

as I try

to find words,

lies

a brunette

with sparkling eyes

and golden thighs

and in my mind

I make a b-line

for anywhere else but here

but I'm stuck in place

because she's making him smile

and I,

I

used to be the one who did that

and as my heart pounds

with a quickening pace

and my thoughts begin to race,

my mouth going dry

with a bitter taste,

he turns his head

and I stare in horror

as our eyes meet.





So, I turn and I bolt

around the corner

out of sight,

a tear

running down my cheek

as I try to fight

the urge to go back

and say something

because what is the point in saying something?

What is the use in saying something?





He doesn't love me anymore

and as my mind leaves the memory

that has never happened

I shudder

because I know it will happen

and it will probably happen soon.

It will probably happen soon.





I guess I'm just not over him.


Hi Spaceship,

I've highlighted what I see as the heart of this poem.  I also have the urge the lengthen your lines, to just make it flow a little more quickly and tighten it up a bit.  For example:


So Christmas day rolls around and I've unwrapped presents
with the kids and am sharing a moment 
that I never thought would exist,
one where I'm finally done facing my current problems,
and I decide to go for a stroll sometime around three o'clock
and as I round the corner outside of the library,
I am in shock to find my worst nightmare unfolding in front of my eyes
like a prize that is well deserved.



I very much like the idea of the poem, the memory that hasn't happened yet, but will.

TqB
Reply
#3
(09-20-2021, 11:47 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote:  
(09-20-2021, 01:39 PM)ISawASpaceship Wrote:  I have a memory

and it's a rather loud memory

that plays at the front of my mind

all day long,

repeating

like a song

on the radio

that is a really bad one hit wonder.





The strangest thing about this memory

is that it hasn't happened yet

but I can see it

vividly,

like something being played on a screen

over and over

rewinding like the worst movie

that anyone has ever seen

and it makes me want to scream

and then curl up into a ball,

cry,

and promptly die.





I wonder

if this is what hell feels like

because this 

is my version of hell.





It starts like this.

It's a gloomy afternoon in December

and to be sure

it is one of the most perfect days

because I like gloomy days

more than ones in the heat

and I enjoy a day in December

far more

than I've ever enjoyed

a day in the summer

because in December

there's Christmas

and Christmas

is full of surprises.





So Christmas day rolls around

and I've unwrapped presents

with the kids

and am sharing a moment

that I never thought would exist,

one where I'm finally

done facing

my current problems,

and I decide to go for a stroll

sometime around three o'clock

and as I round the corner

outside of the library,

I am in shock

to find

my worst nightmare

unfolding in front of my eyes

like a prize

that is well deserved.





As I gaze at the gazebo,

I gaze

upon the one that gazed at me

and for the first time

in a while

I see,

his face lit up

and it takes me back

to that day

when it was just he and I

and the rush of summer

that drifted by,

staying away from the rain

and I replay,

replay,

replay

the rain,

the pain,

but the happiness all the same

as what culminated

culminates

in the darkest part of my brain

and I feel

like I'm going insane

while my mouth

meets golden shores

and sands of sugar cane

so sweet

that it would give you a toothache.





As I'm lost,

in the memory

I realize

that he hasn't seen me

but I also realize

that I don't want him to

because there,

as I try

to find words,

lies

a brunette

with sparkling eyes

and golden thighs

and in my mind

I make a b-line

for anywhere else but here

but I'm stuck in place

because she's making him smile

and I,

I

used to be the one who did that

and as my heart pounds

with a quickening pace

and my thoughts begin to race,

my mouth going dry

with a bitter taste,

he turns his head

and I stare in horror

as our eyes meet.





So, I turn and I bolt

around the corner

out of sight,

a tear

running down my cheek

as I try to fight

the urge to go back

and say something

because what is the point in saying something?

What is the use in saying something?





He doesn't love me anymore

and as my mind leaves the memory

that has never happened

I shudder

because I know it will happen

and it will probably happen soon.

It will probably happen soon.





I guess I'm just not over him.


Hi Spaceship,

I've highlighted what I see as the heart of this poem.  I also have the urge the lengthen your lines, to just make it flow a little more quickly and tighten it up a bit.  For example:


So Christmas day rolls around and I've unwrapped presents
with the kids and am sharing a moment 
that I never thought would exist,
one where I'm finally done facing my current problems,
and I decide to go for a stroll sometime around three o'clock
and as I round the corner outside of the library,
I am in shock to find my worst nightmare unfolding in front of my eyes
like a prize that is well deserved.



I very much like the idea of the poem, the memory that hasn't happened yet, but will.

TqB

I lengthened those lines like you suggested. Thank you for saying that. I have a habit of making too many pauses and my writing sometimes can sound very choppy because of it. I'm trying to fix that habit.
Reply
#4
(09-22-2021, 09:03 AM)ISawASpaceship Wrote:  I lengthened those lines like you suggested. Thank you for saying that. I have a habit of making too many pauses and my writing sometimes can sound very choppy because of it. I'm trying to fix that habit.

Well, it gives it a breathless quality, which is not all bad.  Maybe just varying the line lengths, some sections in that style, others where you go longer.  If that makes any sense.

Anyway, Welcome to Pig Pen

TPQ
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