Poetry / Art Collab: R.S.V.P.

R.S.V.P.

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.

Words by Hannah Durham
Art by Heather Parr

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