Unweave, Logan Compau and Christopher Nuryadi

This chair makes my world feel small
this carpet is a forgotten dance floor
I check the air for a past worth revisiting
but the door opens to more hallways

My room
usually it’s clean
then once in a while I cannot see the floor
through the pile of old stuff it’s hard to get to the door

So the door becomes wanting
and shirts wrap themselves around my ankles
and venture with me across the shag
there are more steps to take than I remember

I took a step toward the door
and contemplated what I should do next
But I was not ready to walk through, no
I wanted to remain in that familiar place for sure

I was ready to be sewn into the, piles and closets
I remember then, old clothes make nights feel longer
still standing against the cotton currents
I reach again

I took one step then another but then took ten steps back
which I abhorred, slowly moving forward, I took a couple more
Walking toward the future, I approached slowly and
with sweaty palms, today I opened the door 


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