Inherited Coat

The coat slips over my shoulders,

stiff as frozen rivers, sleeves too long.

The fabric pinches where it’s meant to drape,

a garment sewn from should and must.

I button up the past’s bulk,

threads tug tight across trembling arms.

The collar bites into skin thin with trying,

a shadow’s shape I wear but can’t shed.

This coat carries voices—quiet demands

that rub raw beneath every fold.

I walk bent beneath the weight, trying

not to stumble, not to crack the seams.