What's it to you?

I'm sure you don't want to claim me,

now that I turned out to be your polar.

I'm sure you spit venom behind my back,

now that I don't need you.

It's funny how I feel the same,

but why so much hate?

Just let it go and live,

because I already did.

But I shouldn't be saying that,

I haven't forgotten.

I still find myself wanting,

to please and to live for you.

But what's the point?

You never look at ME.

I finally see that I looked blindly at the Ground,

thinking it was the Sun.

Now I know better,

but let me ask you one last thing,

So what's it to you?

What's me to you?