I'm wearing your old jeans, no make-up and
a cardigan that's big enough for two -
I'm giving Oxfam shops a helping hand
but anyway, who's looking now? Not you.
I'm far more desperate than a life of crime
and all my wasted days are Guinness black,
I'm drinking like a drunk at closing time
as if I'd find a way to drink you back.
But you have gone, so I must sober up
and wash you from my long-neglected hair,
go home, put on a dress and raise my cup
of tea to toast the last night of despair.
I'll coat my lips with Damson in Distress -
they miss your mouth; one day they'll miss it less.
--Kathryn Simmonds
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