Pinkie Finger
when i was drunk i rang you and you didn't pick up your phone.
i came to your house and bashed the door until my
knuckle bones ripped in two. my fingers were
ripped from my palm from trying to reach you.
i left my pinkie finger in your post box.
when you found it in the morning you
rang me up and told me that you had it for breakfast
along with my dignity and left me alone
with my infidelity.
Copyright © Chole Young | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment