My House

My house. When I turn the key and all you hear is the door squeak. But as you listen you will hear that there is something that you don’t know, the windows creak. The cracks in the walls aren’t just cracks, they are memories that will never fade. The stairs have holes but they are never just holes--they are love. I love when you walk on the floor and it creaks. That floor says, “I got you. You are not going to fall--ever!”