Bartender, Another.
A drop, unseen,
Slithers through veins like a whispered lie.
At first, it’s sweet—the taste, a dream,
But beneath the surface, a rising scream.
The heart slows it’s beat, the mind becomes still,
Memory once blurred, now painfully clear,
Reveals every wound, each forgotten tear.
The only cure, it seems, is another shot.
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