Spectre

I cannot shake this feeling I am no longer alive,
That sometime during this tragedy I slipped away and died.
And how I haunt my family awake at night alone,
This place now feels like purgatory and less and less my home.

I bang the wall and throw things while the living world moves on,
And I wonder if they notice if I'm here or if I'm gone.
Sometimes they turn and glimpse me and I wonder if they're aware,
That I love them and I need them but they always seem so scared.

No matter how much like a banshee I howl and I wail,'
I cannot escape this feeling of being ethereal and frail.
But here I sit both alive and dead...Dr. Frankenstein's creation,
Questioning if my wants and needs are too high above my station.