Hopelessness

I DON’T LIKE LIGHTING CANDLES BY MYSELF, not unless I have to. There are twelve burning before me now and I have not yet lit a single one. I usually light two: one for me, and one for wife, but tonight I have chosen not to watch the flames as they dance softly in the night, jittering as if tiny men are shaking and waving. They burn brightly before me and warm my face and yet there is nothing I can think of other than grabbing one so I can jab it into the centre of my eye and feel it burn.I