Stuck Fast

The zipper caught again

like a secret refusing to move.

I tugged — once,

twice — then stopped.

Ten years of falls folded

inside this worn-out shell,

its teeth clenched tight,

silent, stubborn as me.

That snag halfway up

held every cold night walk,

every scraped elbow, hurried goodbye.

Finally, a breath of defeat,

a small pause before the slide,

a moment locked between teeth.