they would tell a story of the squeaking of the walls that seperate us. I hear it more now than I use to. I try to tune it out but the harder I try, the louder it gets. Sometimes i hear the finish, and I'm relieved because my pain has come to an end and the imagination can finally stop running wild.
1 comment:
squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak
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