Garage #8,061 - Dustin Vado

It's so dark, you feel like you can say anything.

The moments from thought to spill
are lost like the boys who dwell
in this dank, this hole,
this home
winter after winter breathing the
dust of truth serum, 
and before any of it 
can be taken back,
you might say
"Did I really just tell you that?"

The truth has a way of clambering
towards light the way an octopus
can houdini out of most traps 
at least the size of its beak;
the facts meld with the dank
for a shameful,
yet refreshing display
of innocence that makes this cave
what it is.

The island of lost children
needs this grotto to face
what they are, and its guests
are expected to do the same.

No visitor leaves without learning
something about the lost, 
and finds a piece of themselves
In the clutter.

The morning after,
the smoke has cleared and
sun shines through the skylight
reflecting off every web 
spun from truth 
and brotherhood
collecting pieces 
of the lost.