Unapproachable

I’m an unopenable door waiting to be cracked open, exposed to the natural but yet fresh humanity. Such an infinitesimal amount of air escapes through the cracks, just taunting me. Showing what I can’t have, but giving me such small doses it taunts me. When will that key be discovered, and open a concrete wall in front of me. The bleak amounts of light only omit pure injustice. Give me what I want. It’s not there, the figure, the human being that will be that discoverer. This absence of light is eating away at my flesh; everything needs light, pure light, to live. For this just erodes my skin, until it drips to the floor, of an ungoverned society. A society so weak it won’t even be governed. A society so weak, that it will not provide for its fellow parts. My society won’t allow this to happen anymore. The brain in my head throbs from a recollection of what is to come, pure excitement, and pure hesitation. The anticipation accumulates, which rubs the society against the blades of a democracy. Bring yourself forward, and try your key into a rusted lock.