that peacoat in your closet
always
catches my eye
the one you always wore when i was a child
its 50's style
the way it weighed you down
because it was a size too big
you wore that ugly coat
without confidence or style
its musty smell
combined with old cheap perfume
still embedded in its fibers

the coat always reminds me
of that night dad picked you up from nyc
i was lying across the white seat
in the back of that rusty toyota
"aqualung" blasted in the background
while you and dad sat
silently and cold
your eyes heavy
from the tears
the lies
the guilt
finally revealed
the decision to separate
my eyes wide and intrigued by the city lights
not knowing what was really going on

the peacoat remained in your closet
since that night
you had bought a new coat
one with style
one that fit
one you wore with confidence
and your eyes were radiant
eyes i inherited

22 years later
i wear musty old clothes from thrift stores
longing to be in the city