Noticed

 

I lived my life, most often, like a ghost,

ethereal, drifting from room to room,

a chill chasing me from pillar to post.

 

Rippling across the senses of those whom,

in solitude, sought meaning in their life

before they passed beyond it to the tomb.

 

I was not noticed by them, or my wife

who gladly let me rest in silent shade

whilst stabbing at me with a nagging knife.

 

Then, resting in the bed that we had made

she didn’t notice that, tonight, I died -

my spirit passing to the night brigade.

 

Her tears were dust, those moments that she cried.

I saw all this from high above the scene

as doors to purgatory opened wide.

 

I could have grieved for all that I had been,

but something in me wanted to be free,

something dark within wanted to be seen.

 

So I ignored the light that shone on me,

turning away from heaven’s golden gate.

I threw away salvations twisted key.

 

I chose to take an otherworldly fate,

to challenge death and break his rigid laws.

Look for me when the hour is getting late.

 

At last you notice when I open doors,

you look around, your eyes awash with fear,

jump at the sound of distant creaking floors.

 

Your senses tingle, knowing I am near,

Aware, though dead and gone, that I still care.

I whisper it so softly in your ear.

 

I run my fingers gently through your hair.

Closer than close. A permanent nightmare.