I guess I'm sort of jealous of smoke
The way you inhale it, it makes you feel better
The way you hold it in your lungs as if letting it go would make them shatter
Then you exhale and it disappears into a fine mist
And you're left with that feeling of bliss

I might be a little jealous of liquor
The way you read the bottle, inspecting it like expensive wine
I'm wishing the label was my eyes
As you stare deeply into that now empty bottle
Wishing you could feel that comforting burn in the back of your throat

And I realized last night that

*I want to be your addiction