Worn Threads of Belonging

In the corner it waits, a coat worn and frayed,

as I slip it on gently, it whispers of shade.

The fabric feels heavy, yet familiar and light,

a weight of lost stories held snug in the night.

Each pocket contains hints of a life once embraced,

fragments of moments, of laughter, and grace.

I wander through echoes, where shadows once played,

in the softness of seams, my own heart has swayed.

And though it’s not mine, I feel warmth seep inside,

like the remnants of kindness from someone who tried.

In this borrowed embrace, there’s a comfort I find—

the threads weave together, two souls intertwined.