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.