Applications In The Dark

Applications In The Dark

I’m a laid-off parent
scrolling through a warzone
made of ads and lies
every posting looks the same
every hope gets standardized

Kids finally knocked out
on the pull-out
cartoons still paused on the screen
dishes leaning in the sink
like they’re waiting to join the scene

I slide this old laptop open
on a table scarred with years
job board glow hits my face
while the quiet hums with fears

Filter by “full-time”
“remote”
“entry-level” with ten years thrown in
they want three degrees and miracles
for pay that barely counts as a win

“Dynamic rockstar self-starter”
in a city I can’t afford to reach
I copy-paste my aching life
into one more hollow pitch

Inbox full of “thanks for applying”
that read like “you’re not real”
no one called to say “we’re sorry”
just a mass reject with no deal

Meanwhile the fridge sings empty
only condiments and doubt
I’m doing math on ramen packs
and what bills I can live without

Phone lights up with a number
that used to mean steady pay
now it’s an automated survey
asking how I liked my last day

I hang up before it finishes
look at the cracked linoleum floor
every scuff mark looks like footsteps
heading out the door

I tuck a blanket tighter
round my youngest on the couch
they twitch in their sleep and mumble
kick a shoe off
with a flinch and a crouch

They don’t know
the monsters in this house
speak in interest rates and fees
dressed up as friendly notices
stapled to our needs

Clock hits two
then three
then something past the point of sense
I upload one more version of myself
to the fire of expense

Kids stir in their sleep
and whisper questions to the air
I close the lid
kiss their foreheads
tasting my thin prayer

I slide the chair back slow
so it doesn’t wake the room
stand in the doorway watching them
and push back one more fear

Pocket full of past-due notices
heart full of cheap resolve
hoping one locked line of text
will finally let my life evolve