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The Holiday of Yesterday


As you celebrate so free,

I am crying in my retreat,

living my old life vicariously today.

Remember when? Remember where?

You swirl your fingers in your hair,

as if nothing went down yesterday.

My red and green did fade

and my carols went astray

and it’s not up for debate.

Keep your decorations to yourself.

My old mindset rots on the shelf

when I scroll through photos of the other day.

It’s another cloudy day, a collection of commiseration. I wake up to another shot in the head and another ten pounds of sweat and dread. Likely I’m only what you see, but everyday I repeat that I can’t believe my reality.

In the solemn spirit of repeat, I’m as lonely as I can be. I knock myself out with two prescribed candies and do away with reality, so I can return to my dream.

You don’t deserve my rants

about my cans and cants

so I retreat into my memories of yesterday.

I like my memories;

they bring back the ecstasy

that once wasn’t in December’s grey.

I miss the trips we would take

and the laughs we would make

while all my concerns were away.

I miss the shows we would watch.

I miss the family, the family that taught

me to not think about the wrongs of my old ways.

So I come again to this place, only this time it is merely me and my lonely face. I shut the door and look around for a second, or two, or more— depends on the day.

Much to my dismay, a frame remains in place of my white wall of disdain.

My life is a horror film, a movie of a man lost inside a memory.

Forever, things do not last. But, I keep you on my wall, in hopes that one day you will return to my cast.

So, I write to you a letter,

my wish to live forever

inside the holiday of yesterday.


Artwork: Kristian Zenz

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