You’re nothing but a black hole.
Sure, I escaped, as did most of us; the speed of light doesn’t have to be a barrier.
I was merely an asteroid, one born into your orbit.
Your pull grew ever stronger as I was stuck there.
Planets pulled in, stars pushed out.
The cosmos around me held their breath as you swung me around and around.
So important. So protective.
As I reached the event horizon, I could feel myself disintegrate.
Something was wrong. Everything was wrong.
Your gravity began to falter.
Eventually, I took off, like the rockets from White Sands.
Stages falling, falling, never to be recovered.
Fuel tanks, engines, parts I’ll never get back.
A sense of safety I’ll never have again.
I hope you’re happy.