Categories > Original > Poetry > they'll never understand 'cause they were understood
the stairs may creak, but that's okay
i skip those snitches
stair number four, stair number nine
then it's barely breathing
slowly opening the glass door
because sometimes it squeeks
then i liberating feeling washes over me
as i prance to the grass
and i dance in the moonlight
and i pretend you're still here
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