Defensive

The dashboard clock is blinking twelve and four,

A green light flashing in the afternoon.

I’ve got my heavy boots flat on the floor,

But I’m not going anywhere quite soon.

She asked me why I keep on saying sorry

For mistakes that I haven't even made.

It’s like I’m rehearsing a different story

Where I’m the one who always is afraid.

My knuckles are a row of white and bone,

Clutching the wheel until the plastic squeaks.

I hate the way she leaves me here alone

With all the truth she never even speaks.