Hardly

It is not your fault: I made you think I was your horse. I gave you a sense of ownership that flattered you. You wanted something to protect, and I complied. Maybe I should have stopped you then... I take the blame. I don't belong to anyone, and the truth is sometimes I don't even belong to myself, sometimes I wake up in strange places, accompanied by people I have never seen before, and I wonder what, where, when, why... while that which really owns breaks down in laughter. I'm hardly yours if I'm hardly mine.