The Watcher

I am the watcher.

Cold and alone
I drift
In this house
No longer
My own.

A family here-
I've known them for years-
They live in this house
Of mine.

The daughter,
She feels me sometimes,
So it is on her
I set my sights.

Cold and alone
For so long,
I long to be seen
Even once.

Cannot the watcher
Become the watched?

Here-
She's alone tonight.
Her breath echoes
In a house
So absent of
My own.

I must be careful-
I can't scare her too much
Or she'll run.

Quick, child-
Did you leave the
TV on?
She runs to the room
And- CLICK!
The room goes dark.

She is a little perturbed
But not yet aware.
I have to try harder.

Straining myself,
I open the door-
And SLAM it shut
Just as quick.

She jumps like a rabbit
And squeals-
But still, she is not aware!
I must try harder!

SLAM!
Goes another door
And CLICK!
Goes the TV
And wide
Go her eyes
As she hides behind the sofa
In fright.

But it in't enough.
I can see it in her eyes.

"Maybe it's interference.
Maybe it's a draft.
Maybe it's anything..."

Anything but me.

The house goes quiet.
The noises have stopped.
She stands,
Wary but relieved.

She never saw me
In front of her-
A ghost,
Longing for life.

So, cold and alone,
I drift again-
For I am the watcher,
And I am dead.