Coz, its like those horror films - right?
The circle of kids, in a dark room with a flashlight each
And like theres tension, the spooky, scary kind
And the ****** kind, usually

As each say their lines the flashlight moves
To their own face, then pointing at each other
Shaking, daring.
Even in a horror movie, we find this respectful rhythm
This shining of acknowledgement
The voice & light, the light & voice, round n round until of course someone dies

We're like that, you and I. Talking in the dark, building tension, feeling scared. Kids.

Except, your flashlight is always pointing upwards, mine is always fixed on you.

No one can remember what I look like,
I have no lines, only reactions to you.
And no one can see what I see of you.
And your batteries always die, so you need me to point it at you but you're burning under my heat.
And I can't see anyone else in the dark, even when they're reaching for me.
I've died but our circle can't notice.