Sometimes I wish I could drive for once,
instead of always watching the way you hold the steering wheel with one hand
as if it doesn't even matter that you're driving,
as if it isn't my life in your hands
or our child's in the back seat.

You're crazy and unrelenting,
you're stealing and hunting,
and it's not something I understand.

I like it when you hold me and I can know your being,
I like it when I can feel what you feel for me  
and I can empathize and be hurt and you can smile, and forget it.
But it's how we are, not who we are.
Because you let me go too soon, and all I could feel was warm.