What if
the black hole,
is something similar
to the door that
Truman Burbank exited;

an alternate world to his, where over there only truth exists?

The Universe
an ink drop in water
a single point all at once billowing out in magnificent swirls

Cosmically, we are nothing
Individually, we are everything
supernovae exploding
destroying all that is near
leaving black holes in our wake to devour existence
without hesitation
without discrimination

But also
galaxies whirling and spinning with ultimately undying grace
filled with billions, trillions of thoughts all coalescing
birthing and dying

Careful now, do not let beauty make you a fool
We are the cosmos
grand scheme brimming with rage
harboring cataclysmic disaster
spectacular color contraster
born of ink in water
Everything, yet nothing, beneath The Alter

Alien cousin beams,
I just watch; can’t catch her wish;
Black hole, as a whole!

my bad days are black holes
like ink spots on your perfect universe
from where someone pressed down
too hard with a fountain pen

my blood is the ink
and your eyes are the stars
i am a corrosion of your beauty
i am hungry for the planets
that adorn your wrists like jewels

i am gravity without the heat of passion
could you still love me?
could you let me stain your skin
could you let me brush my lifeblood
over the divots of your constellations

i am a perfect sphere of loss
homeless, exhausted
please, let me stay
let me soak the warmth from your fingertips
let me absorb the light from your smiles
like dusted galaxies stretching across the sky

i am a black hole
and you are my universe

If the stars hanging in the sky
are weighed down by people's wishes and cries,
Some of those, somewhere,
struggling, trying not to sink into nowhere.