This little poem is about the small, lonely side of heartbreak – that feeling of being left out, or left behind, without anyone really noticing. It is about that longing to be loved; how it’s somehow worse if you got a peek into the possible camaraderie/relationship. It’s not the dramatic crying-in-the-rain version of heartbreak, but the quiet kind where you’re still present, still orbiting everyone else’s life, just not invited fully in.

The idea for the poem originally came from a game of Apples to Apples I played one night with my family. The card combo “meek black hole” showed up on the table, and something about that phrase struck me hard. I, like, FELT it. I could picture this small black hole in small that doesn’t mean to destroy anything; it’s just accidentally pulling entire galaxies into itself. And I suddenly started thinking of black holes as these awkward, lonely creatures that don’t know how to ask for closeness any other way.

So the poem treats heartbreak like that: not explosive, but inward. A soft collapsing. A shrinking. Wanting connection but pulling everything too close and too silently. When you are a meek black hole, you are trying to absorb something you can’t hold on to, and destroying it as you do.

When I started to draw the comic to go with the poem, I was trying to capture that same feeling of being on the outside looking in. I played with empty space, simple lines, and a kind of visual quiet – the way loneliness can stretch around you like a room that’s too big.