I Have No Idea (Amy Winehouse Tribute )

I don't want to drink again No, not from those lips That tiny bottle of pending doom with little tiny labels marked warning. Under the table, grabbing walls Compensation for the shot glass full of stained breath There is no amount of emotional comfort that doesn't lead to physical contact. My lips; your essence There isn't a support group that can teach that The urge to resist the glare of the bottle Simple steps that lead to complete disaster The calling of your name The way you splash against my lips. I don't want to drink again My bad habit My secret craving A distinct hint that I need you again. Where's pride in this infatuation The need to have you again This uncontrollable substance Marked with warning labels Bottled emotion that seeps at anytime. The need of not caring who's around. Again, pride where are you