Image for the poem Bored to Death

Bored to Death

I never wanted anything he could give  
me, yet somehow here we are.  
Bored. Depressed. Just living.  
This kills me from the inside out  
I wither but no one can see.  
Fake smiles and quick smooches  
are all that we have. Acting out our parts  
keeping to the script, no improvisation.  
All I have are death thoughts, he kills  
me, I kill him either way one dies
and one remains.
Many nights I've stood over him  
with a pillow watching him sleep,  
listening to his snores just looming  
over him, wanting him to wake up  
and see me, he never does.
Written by nikkimoe
Author's Note
I collect antique photography. One of the best creative writing tools ever. I own this photo.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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