WHAT WE INHERIT WHEN NO ONE IS LOOKING
- Jun 26
- 1 min read
By K. A. Warwick
Inheritance is inconspicuous.
It is not the jewellery you pocket
or the deeds you wade through.
Inheritance is the way your body flinches
before your mind understands why.
It isn’t given,
and it isn’t asked for.
It is learned.
The way you listen
through walls
without thinking.
The way you fold your anger
into smaller, softer shapes
easier to carry,
harder to see.
The way you apologise
for taking up air.
Inheritance is
learning to predict
the weather of the house:
the door that never fully closed
yet always slammed;
the silence collecting
in the darkest corners¬–
the ones only you
can name:
the footsteps measured
in heartbeats.
But here is the part
no one tells you:
inheritance is not ownership.
You can return
what does not fit.
What we inherit
when no one is looking
is only the beginning;
what we refuse to carry
is the rest of the story.