Magic Beans
Oh, where to plant my magic beans,
And bring to life my darkest dreams?
Is it in you, half measured glass,
On the bar that I might pass?
Will she notice you are laced,
And on her tongue that bitter taste?
Will she panic when her mind goes black,
Her vision blurs, her muscles slack?
Will she know when I creep in?
I doubt she will know anything.
The crowd moves too fast to focus
That face distorts into a haze
A lingering sensation
The fear I feel at his embrace
My body is too heavy
My skin, it feels too thick
My head spins like a Catherine wheel
And makes me very sick
Oh, how to thank my magic beans
For permitting me these dirty things.
What will I do when I get home?
For the first time I am not alone.
Copyright © Bethany Spencer | Year Posted 2015
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