You thought you could get rid of me?
That your handsome face and beautiful eyes took me in?
You could swallow my heart and soul?
My mind?
My seed?
No.
I drunk all ten of those slippery nipples dry of my own accord.
I ate those roofies voluntarily.
I took your entire length of your sword willingly into my anal cavity.
Then I took your bullet to the back of my brain.
Your knife through the main vein of my cock.
Pain.
Death.
But at least I know your end game.
Cast down from my Bangkok Babel.
I must have sucked the cocks of a thousand fat Englishmen.
Gained six millimetres of carbon fibre in my skull.
Yet I’m here.
Alive,
Unforgiving,
Moonchild.
