Vagabonds: Anthology of the Mad Ones Vagabonds Vol. 3 | Página 20

They want to know
Fuck me, I wish I knew
I’d trade my mother
To escape this dungeon
With only the damage
Already done
They fall silent
Then the big one reaches over
To pin my wrist with one hand
Squeeze my fourth finger
With the other
I cannot hear myself think
Over the sound
Of my own blubbering
As he begins to bend my finger back
I can’t help but think
“Maybe you were right after all.
Maybe I’ve got a problem here."
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