On the Edge of a Black Hole

Watching somebody hurdle addiction
is like watching somebody straddle a black hole,
verging a portal of no return,
on the edge of losing control
and a decision to make.

The thing about black holes is,
they aren’t actually holes at all,
but rather too much matter
existing in one place.
Was there too much the matter
existing inside of you to face?

You must have mistaken the overload
for a void you thought you had to fill.
Instead, it sucked you in.
The gravitational pull
must have become too strong
to let light in
or to let you turn back around.

The thing about watching somebody
fall into a black hole,
is you can never actually see
the exact moment they disappear.
NASA says that to an observer,
it will always appear
as if they are standing on the fringe,
mid-jump into something that can’t be undone.
You’ll never know when they become
irreversibly out of your reach.

You’ll be stuck in the image of their reflection
forever bordering addiction and recovery,
an infinity mirror of purgatory and grief,
frozen in a snapshot of your hope
and their good intentions.

It’s something about a space-time continuum,
another concept I don’t comprehend.
A concept that, like addiction,
feels too many dimensions away,
no matter how many articles I read,
no matter how many metaphors I make.

You’ll find yourself wishing them
a better place in the cosmos,
but you know that parallel universes
align too closely to this world,
so you pretend perpendicular portals
sucked them in and spit them out,
rebirthed them into another existence
with balanced brain chemicals
and better ways to cope.

Black holes are formed
when a star collapses.
Something beautiful
becomes something destructive.
If that’s not a metaphor for addiction,
I don’t know what is.

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