After you left,
I found your sweatshirt in my closet,
The one you had on New Years Eve,
The one I wore over my sports bra and panties
While I made you pancakes the next morning.
I pulled it down and held it close to me;
It still smelled like you,
So I placed it on your side of the bed,
So I wouldn’t be lonely,
But your scent faded so fast.
I searched desperately for a trace of you on it,
I looked for a hair, something to evoke an image of you,
But one day it became just some dumb old sweatshirt
With no meaning
No memories.
So I threw it out my window;
It landed on a car,
Then a hobo took it,
And when I finally shut the sill,
I was so, utterly,
Alone.