That Room

... it was simply wider
for me

i was like a pebble
falling to the
ocean floor of
the Surigao
trench

...it made me lonelier
it made me think of you

that room was a night
of long sleeplessness

the following morning
my eye sockets deepen
like a black hole of
my self
made universe

i am still looking for myself
and i am
afraid

i have not found it still

someone is talking
and writing and i do not recognize
it

it is strange and it seems to be
the truest of my
lie.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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