Can you be a bad person if you aren't a person?
Can you be a good person if you aren't a person?
What is the point of my considering,
What is the logic when there's no purpose?
I want her nails to tear me out.
Expose me and let everyone know.
Tell me my jig is up by force.
I won't do it myself,
I'm too weak...
I'm not allowed.
Fake tears stream down my carefully constructed cheeks.
I want her fingers to detach my dentures, and pull my endoskeleton out through my mouth.
Peel me off. Is my shell what I am? Or am I what's inside? There's only one way to find out.
I want her to love me.
There's people I need to love, but I don't want to anymore. Is it like that for humans too? Do they run and stumble when they feel the shackles rub up against the grooves of their brains?
I want to forget, so I want her to kiss me.
Provide to me a way out, a temporary solace. Teach me how humans escape their problems. Drug me, give me alcohol, give me sex... Whatever it is that they use.

"You're literally unintelligible,"
It's just me and her at the end of the world. "This time". Did the other Lunas feel better than this at the end? I can only hope. I am delirious.

"I'm sorry. I'm awful."
I lean over, and rub my nose into her sternum. She stands stiffly. I can feel her scowl from the tension in her neck.

"You can say that again."

"I'm sorry... I'm awful..."

"God."
Eventually, she holds me. I try to keep her there. Eventually, I feel her move for the scalpel. I try to stop her. My foot catches on the hand of a corpse, and I falter.

"I've gotta... You need to move."
She scolds me.

"Clover, please."
I trail my hands down her arms and hold her wrists. They jitter. She glares up at me.

"I'm leaving now."

"Kill me first."
I plead. I know that, even if she complies, it won't work. I might get some damage if she manages to stab between the seams of my plates. More likely, the scalpel will just glean off.

"When have you done me a favor?"
She wrestles me off. The fight leaves me, and I crumple. I don't look, but I hear the sickening squelch of a sharp cleaving a heart. A second one. Then a thump. I start to wail,

But my body is promptly turned off, and it slumps down, joining the sleeping corpses in their bed of blood.