matchmaker

you call me unique, tell me i have value,

tell me to summarise a lifetime of work into two pages

double-sided

check these boxes, condense everything into categories:

research

awards

committees

degrees

leadership

a lifetime condensed in two dimensions,

devoid of colour

a black-and-white page as i beg them to

like me

love me

hitting refresh on the inbox waiting for their acceptance

(part one)

my suit is picked out, the best my (small) salary can provide

is this too much makeup? not enough?

are my heels too high? not high enough?

everything is subjective, except one fact: i need to make them

like me

love me

everything i’ve worked for boils down to this game of chance

isn’t it ironic

the one thing i’ve worked hardest for turns out to be

the one thing i can’t control?

hitting refresh on the inbox waiting for their acceptance

(part two)

the clock ticks down to the designated time, sealing my fate

for two years

for five years

for forty years

this life is part chance and part luck

all i ask is that someone takes a chance on me