parked

we sit in the car with no plans on going to far off distant lands like utah.
i saw this coming, we used to dream big. but not anymore. we don't dream like before.
now we just sit there and choke on the melancholy air coming in through the vents, the air sort of seeping in through the not-so-fortified tents we both pretended to get out and set up unproductively sheltering me from your naivete not stopping the cold.
i understand now that we're both severely malnourished because we have not spoken peace in days, feeding me crumbs precariously dressed as hisses and sighs instead.
i don't know if i care. maybe i do.
i swear i'd rather be dead. i'd rather be dead than here with you.
anything but having to sit here drowning out the voices in my head screaming for something else. something that could've easily been better.
anything but this.
instead, i'll just sit here and pretend everything is ok.