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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 © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 5/14/2009 7:30:00 PM
very odd... but i loved it. awesome poem. imagination is a great gift and sure have alot of it :)
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Date: 5/14/2009 7:14:00 PM
good grief! you certainly have imagination!-AA
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