Fear shows to the party,

no invitation in hand,

but an overwhelming sense of

entitlement.

 

Her champagne class shines,

her dark charcoal dress

form-fitting.

 

I beg her to leave,

She laughs,

fingers running through her

raven hair.

 

"Darling," she taunts,

"Don't be rude. Be a

hospitable host."

 

I give her a tour

of the rooms of my mind.

She settles in with a wicked smile.

 

"Let the lights dim.

Let yourself go.

Let everything revolve around me."