By Maté Jarai
You sit at your desk
in the dark because
the bulb has died and you
can’t buy a new one.
You want to but you can’t.
People have emptied you
and you can’t be out there
in an aisle full of shoppers
choosing a lightbulb and
acting like things are good.
This darkness is like a cave
and that’s what you really need –
a dark cave, just you.
You whisper,
‘Someone just give
me a chance’
but that chance
isn’t coming.
It hasn’t even though
you bled for it and
worked your fingers
to the bone,
your eyes half-blind
for it.
It’s a last call.
It’s desperate and you
wince at the desperation
of yourself.
No chances, no help,
just you in this dark
but out there
is lonelier,
and that’s why
you start to sing
hoping the
neighbours wake
and tell you to
shut the fuck up.
Maté Jarai is editor-in-chief of cephalopress. He has a PhD in Creative Writing from Southampton University. He has three poetry collections which are available on amazon via www.iamwendle.com/books Follow him on twitter and instagram @matejarai.
