Take the Blame

You pour eleven ounces in an eight ounce cup

So you can douse the world of its flame.

You think you have control,

Act like you're all grown up

But instead you're story's the same.

I mop up the mess you make

So you can leave me be

Avoid the look, the pain

I've never been used to this 

It's so new--am I to blame?