The Canal is frozen solid,
near by my car tempts fate with races.
In my last goodbye each "I" is dotted,
with broken hearts and sad faces.
It reads; "I'm never going to leave you,
my ghost can float along in your life.
While each moving noise will deceive you,
and I'll be bound to you as if your wife."

So you tore me up like an old receipt,
just another object you don't wish to keep,
but you can't return as I did not sell,
I should've seen down payment before I fell.
Do I even know you? I'd like to believe I once did,
A conclusion I drew, and from the beauty you hid.
It's more painful for me to ask,  than for you to have to hear,
I guess you switch up your new mask, at the start of each new year.

I feel so hollow inside my torn up chest,
to the point where I'm not sure which side my heart does rest.
Left or right, I just can't decide,
and it calls out silently, but the beats seem to hide.
For I still grasp at my clothes, I wish to forcefully pull each thread,
as the inner turmoil impose, on my already swollen head.
That is now flooding this page, an explanation to your fully aware mind,
I'm just past that blissful stage, that we could never really find.