Why do I want those that don't want me?

Why do I want those that have bitten me like rabid dogs that have torn into my skin and made me gush with blood?

I crawl back, bleeding, asking for anything else except for being alone.

I can show people that I don't need them just as much as they don't need me,

or I can show them that I can be just as mean, too.

People have exposed the face behind that mask too many times.

Each time, it hurts more.

Why am I surprised?

Why do I need people?

They don't need me.

I'm shaped like a tool.

I wanna be surrounded by human energy.

X: "I can stand alone."

X: "No, you can't. "

X: "Yes, I can."

X: "People won't need you either way, sweet thing."

Now's the perfect time to put up my shield.