I’ll tell you a story, now the party is here.
You know the ending, already, I fear.
Red, pour a glass, cold slivers of meat.
Pull up a chair, come take a seat.
Relax, stay a while. What’s mine is yours.
Still, I have locked all of the doors.
The night is long under growing moon.
Did I see footsteps in every room?
Empty cups on discarded paper plates.
Everyone leaves, but something here waits.
The house shivers cold, the lights all go dead.
Now I am sure, it’s not just in my head.
The wallpaper breathes, creaking staircase ascend.
The darkness tells stories, it’s not my friend.
The familiar made hostile, obscured in disguise.
I step, and pause, in a room with more eyes.
The curtains grow taller, a gnarling mouth smile.
Waiting, I know you’ve been here for a while.
Body, fractured blackness, creeping this way.
We come face to face; welcome, I say.