She sat on the floral couch with me and cried
Told me what an awful child I’d always been
That this year
That this year
She couldn’t ignore it
I “ruined" her Christmas
It was the 21st of December
She hadn’t ornamented the house
Or sent out cards
Or played festive music
Because of me
I’m sure I was crying more than she
I wanted to make things better
Promise her I’d be a better boy
Start decorating the house myself
Try really hard to make our family one we’d see on TV
I felt all of the blame and quested none of it
I also felt a turning in me
A maliciousness that scared me
I knew this budding feeling was in my father and he thrived on it
This stirring was above my stomach and below my heart
It felt something like power
Through my badness I welded power to alter family history, family happiness, family holidays
To think about such power too much would get me drunk
I didn’t have my words
I didn’t have happiness
I didn’t have love
The family didn’t have Christmas, but I had this
I finally owned something