[T H E L I G H T]

He blows out a candle as 18 doors slam shut
Avoiding eye contact and avoiding all tears
He could’ve gone through them, so many years ago.
But he chose to stay put.

He unwraps a gift made by his loved ones, and eyes it thoroughly.
„for you, my dear. Here’s to the new year.“
It’s an empty box. An expectation never met. A wish never fulfilled.
Nodding, he gets it. Thank you, he says softly.

The book never got sold. It was a stupid story, anyway.
He wakes up and checks his phone for messages. None.
He counts the books. Every day.
The stack remains at 3301.

As an author, his life used to be quite busy.
Until he lost the passion that comes with living.
Now he sits and stares and ponders
about what in the world he was missing

It was rainy days and vibrant colors.
Plastic toys and bright, hot summers.
Laughter and sitting in a field of grass.
Those days are over. You let them pass.

His book is finished and never got sold.
He has to get up and write a number two, he is very well aware of that.
And yet he sits and cries to music
wondering when he got so old.

Wanting to accept it, he tries day and night.
„It’s okay and it’s alright.“
No. He gives up, out of sheer spite.
„Say something that will convince me, or maybe even something that just might.“
You should go to sleep. It’s in the middle of the night.
„That won’t solve my problems, how do I fight?!“
If it’s too dark, YOU have to be bright.
„But I can’t be. My candles are blown, pitch black is my sight.“
No.
It sighs.
You.
You are the light.
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