turn on the lights

My chest.

It hosts a black hole

Which swallows every bit of light.

If the stars and planets are not devoured completely,

I will probably be soon throwing up their remains.

I am a child sleeping with one eye open

while hiding under the sheets.

I wish the sun showed up through my blackened curnains.

I wish I heard drops tearing on my roof.

Instead, I am lying on my back and dreaming of waves.