Ripening

one out of sixteen
a nameless child calling somewhere in that brown trailer
the furry masses of vibrant green trees
clouding and surrounding
these teens

I find their hands
and your brother
taking them to that forest of hearts
where so many carriages lie strewn

I remember those threads of homes
counting the marked boxes
and sitting in linoleum hallways

see the teen sitting and laughing maniacally
clutching at her dirty pajamas

a message brought back in time from her

they don't see why we carve in on ourselves
and breathe in mixed poisons
to relax our prisms
why we dread over false realities
and combust in soundless drafted rooms

too many of the same stories
crammed and overflown
that are hidden, but yet so clear to see

around the world
we seek and breathe the same
the same colors run through us
countless and thrumming
the same thoughts
but at completely different miles

I know these reasons

the way we croon and drone
and watch our voices zoom haphazardly
toward misunderstanding victims

so I created this circle
that's lit
and burning
with so many people
that have known the same reasons

reasons that don't make sense
that bring people breathless in the dead of night
that itch and crawl,
burrow and fester in crevices
etched in our heads

I've led them by hand
tripping over the forest vines
cloaked in hope
shaking the muck from our tenor
and sought out of their created crumbling caves