Day in and day out,
I watch all sorts of people come in and ask me for the same remedy.
"I want to forget."
And I smile in answer.
“I want to kill them.”
And I watch you for a moment.
I hate regrets.
So I do what they say.
I give them what they want.
No matter how bad it may be for them.
No matter how hurtful it would seem for them.
No matter the consequences.
I supply the poison.
I realized this job doesn't always require you to have morals.
Sometimes not even a soul.
As long as you can stand there
and stomach the thought of what
they are doing to themselves, or even each other.
That somehow,
this makes you better off.
So you keep on.
It's all about self-preservation in the end.
I slowly kill everyone around me,
because that’s what they want.
And why should that bother me?
It hits you slowly my venom.
You never feel it at first.
You walk and talk,
and suddenly your legs give out
and you can't stand up.
Your heart speeds up and
you can't breathe.
You see triple
but it doesn't matter.
You lay there
but you don't care.
Your dead to the world
and all you say is,
"Another."
And so I pour.
"Whose next I ask."
As I wipe a glass.
"What can I do for you today?"
As you beckon my way.
You smile at me.
And smiling back I always say,
"What's your poison?"