Watching You Turn Into a Villian
We are friends, becoming more intimate
Staring as the campfire is popping and cracking
Watching the tiny glimpses of yellows and oranges
Trying to peer through the greyness that was once a log.
You are telling me some things you would never tell me
In the day time, or without the wine but it is a cold night.
We have finished the bottle, just you and I, becoming closer.
I watch your face distort herself. You look weird, strange, unnatural.
You are suddenly a monster, someone I do not know.
In the shadows of the woods, I suddenly feel terror.
I have shared some things I wish I had not.
Perhaps you feel the same way also.
Thoughts of a mass-murderer come into my head.
I wonder if I am hallucinating, or psychically picking up
On the real you. You are in the middle of a story when you stop
Staring at me hard.
I guess you know....
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