Dead Circuit

Standing at the wall like I've never seen it before.

Two black holes. That's all an outlet is

when nothing needs it.

The phone is at 12%.

The cables are all in my bag—

the white one, the frayed one,

the one I borrowed from someone's desk.

They're all exactly useless.

I try the socket three times anyway.

The plug doesn't fit differently the fourth time.

The outlet is dead the way things die—

not suddenly,

just the slow failure of being what you were supposed to be.

Around me people are working,

their phones plugged in, their devices full of charge,

their world still receiving.

Mine is just asking.

Asking and asking

and getting nothing back

but the red battery symbol

and the knowledge that

eventually, the asking will stop.

I could leave the wall.

Walk to another socket.

But I keep standing here,

holding the phone that won't charge,

holding the cable that won't connect,

holding the impossible expectation

that this time something will respond.

It won't.

I know it won't.

But I stay.