Elizabeth Holt · Jan 16, 2011
Sorry I'm not sorry

Neon lights burned bright outside the bar.

Standing in their glow, she smoked her last cigarette.

With each exhale, she let go of a dream she knew she would never achieve.

.....

Is this what you want to read?
I'm sorry that I won't write that way, just because you say it's better.

Go fuck yourselves.

 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment