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.