The depression was served with hate in a bowl

They'd forgotten to add fear; I gave a little scowl

I eagerly smoothened the napkin and gulped,

Long since I had onion dupe, and it sucked.

The bottles of spite and soda were popped

The waiter began to pour some for me, but I stopped.

"Not now," I told him, "I'm busy with my dupe,"

"And while you're at it, add a few vice cubes."

The waiter did as he was told and was gone,

I took a spoonful of dupe; it badly needed fault.

A dupe without fault? It's never the same-

I grimaced and called the waiter once again.

"I'm sorry, we've run out of fault," he said,

"Fuck the dupe, give me some grief steak instead."

He bowed and returned with the desired dish,

I asked him for the Hotel Beverages list.

"A bottle of glum, a glass of whine

A fruit tear, served with a slice of grime."

"Is that all?" I asked, "No Scoffee or dree?

Well bring that Spite and Soda for me."

I sipped the drink, staring at the burning lamp

The suffocating heat I couldn't stand

I asked if the lamp could be switched off for me,

Then realised in bright light better off I would be.

For dark was something my life always was-

I'd tasted desertion, I'd bathed in loss

And I'd had enough of this endless night-

So it should be, that I stay in the light.

I finished the drink and asked for the bill

The waiter came with a strange smile on his lips

I tried to smile back and immediately faltered

As I beheld in his left hand a venomous dagger.

His head was tilted, and his eyes were blue

His face was flushed with an unearthly hue,

He looked at me casually flexing the blade-

Then on the white table the dagger he laid.

I looked at him, pupils dilating with shock

But deep down my heart rejoiced at the thought

Of letting the dagger invade my veins

Of letting my body feel the sweet pain.

Months had passed, and my pathetic world

Had laid its hands upon anything it could burn

And it gonna get worse, I totally knew-

Yet never a single drop of blood I drew.

No, I stayed adamant and faced it all

But things now had gone a little too far

And amidst my closet of terrible gloom-

It wouldn't really hurt to have a cut or two.

I gingerly picked up the dagger and said

Thank you to the waiter, he bowed and left.

It was time to revel in the heavenly hurt-

Dinner's over. It was time for dessert.