Similar State

I look terrible right now,
sat outside this cafe.

I’m pretty sure that the jogger
who just jogged by
noticed.

“She looked terrible,”
he’s probably thinking,
lungs full of morning.
“Not her usual, elegant self
at all.”

Bastard.
Who even jogs?

Another early morning,
I’m a similar state.
Looking worse for wear
and wearing last night’s clothes
and a new boy.

We walked past a jogger.
“Who even jogs?”
I asked,
as I felt I should
and we both agreed
that it was a foolish pastime.

It might have been a she,
in tight Lycra leggings,
but I don’t remember.

I just remember
that I kissed the boy goodbye
at the bus stop.

And that I looked terrible.

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