Stuck Closing

The zipper snagged, caught

halfway up, metal teeth biting

into frayed fabric that’s thinned

like the patience I keep on my skin.

Ten years of this jacket,

hanging loose on cracked hooks,

a weight I can’t shed,

a habit folded into my bones.

A sharp pull, a stubborn hiss,

threadbare threads straining against rust,

lungs catching on cold air

that sneaks through the gap.

Stuck between open and closed,

the jacket wears me as much as I wear it—

a slow battle with something

that refuses to move forward.