Why do I let


Or anyone

Let me feel this way

What do I feel like

I can’t even explain it

I’m an observer listening through the crack in my window

At the people downstairs

On the steps

In the stoop

They’re living Their lives

Why am I not?

I thought I didn’t care

What people thought

Or think

They don’t even know me

I can hear his voice

It’s a loud, thick accent

I remember the way he used to say my name

On those same steps

In that stoop

And I wonder why I still care

Because I used

To be them


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