Hey. Hey. Hey you, don’t you think that you can just ignore me. Dance around the subject and try and punch your words in order to floor me. I’m not the princess in you twisted-ass little fairy story. And I abhor every man that thinks he was born more than me. This is my fucking fairy tale, and I’m gonna be the one in chainmail and if I fail, well that’s my own damn problem. Now you got that, or we gonna have one? You call me rough because I talk tough like I ever had any other option to be. As if it were some failing in me to not be a little bit softer around the edges and maybe not so harsh with what I speak. But I’m prevailing in my own right by not allowing myself to be beat. There’s no harm in putting on armor in order to escape defeat.