Crowbar

Just like time makes you forget

How you came by every bruise, every scar

I can’t remember if the spare key I gave you

Goes to the doorknob or the deadbolt

So I play roulette every night, leaving one of them unlocked

Just in case you show up and try to let yourself in

But it’s more likely that I’d lock myself out

And need the key that you have

Than you ever trying to use it

Which makes me wonder

Why I do that to myself

Why do I overextend, overgive

And then approach you with such aggression?

I know if the tables were turned

And I showed up uninvited

I wouldn’t have an easy way in

And she may be the key to your lock

But I’m the crowbar