A uniform row of doors stand aligned,
Each withholding a different journey, a different chapter of my life
Weary, I lock one closed and move to trudge to the next before one across the hall catches my eye
Standing hunched in the engulfing dark of a corner, shrinking small and cobwebbed on the outside
Quivering and grimey on the face of the door
A pus like substance forcefully oozes from the echos of the wood, it's lock glittering in filth
But something from within pulses.
Something from within breathes and barrels against the frame, ever desperate to show what it is as I near
Desperate to scream what glories of the world it deserves.
I push deep into my pocket looking for the key, up to my elbow in my search, and come away with the most beautiful of keys
I attempt to shield and study it for a week, keep it locked within the privacy of my own mind and hands while I understand
The glittering treasure catches the attention of others, some intrigued and most repulsed.
Breathing deep, I save the lock from the mess drowning it and insert its freedom
Turning slowly so as not to frighten, I open and am filled with more than truth
Change rips through my soul, a sort of current loss
It aches and blisters, insisting that I slam the disgusting, cowering door shut but I know that I must keep it open.
It's contents crash through the ceiling of my world and while I am still held in the loving gaze of some, their hearts do not accept