Apt #4

I got high as a kite on Friday night and listened in on all my neighbors' arguments.
They love to fight. I love them for it.
I go to sleep to the sound of slamming doors and expletives.
I wake up to the sound of breaking toys and crying kids.
I can't get them evicted because I've grown addicted to laughing through my floors.
If they move out I can't live here anymore.

This is my home; a getaway from feeling, oh, so desperate. (Oh no!)
It's all I've grown to know.
I swear to God this winter's got it in for me.
It's cold as hell in Hamilton.
Apartment #4 is in deep freeze and it's hard to tell if it'll thaw or if the ice is here for good.
It's killing me.
The frozen air has wrapped me up and tied me down.

It's time to leave.
I'll make a promise - heartfelt and honest - that, when I get back home, if it's still freezing I'll slit the winter's throat.