when i was twenty, there was one dress that i liked.
not that fancy, urban brand, probably not over a haundred euros.
but for me, working night shifts until your body blows up it was m..
the closest thing to a dream, that motivated me to keep forward.
thinking how one day i become older, stronger, quit the nights,
quit the cigarettes, whiskey and stealing hearts from people around.
buy myself that one dress or maybe, a hundred one of those dresses.
reminded myself of a Cosette.
probably you were the man, who bought her that beautiful doll.
for a price, of course. like a long running soul loan in advance.)
now, i am stressing my buyer all over again.
can not decide either i want indigo Max Mara or crimson one. or both.
definitely need to stop both, because there is no place to hang them.
walking central avenue like a lady, covering all the shadows in a bottle.
covering all the lost souls in a wardrobe closet with closed doors.
and you bought me that fox coat like promised for White day.
i can not stop covering with it my body leaving just my tiptoes out.
feels like crazy. queenish and girly non stop until you come home.
but i can not get rid of my old habits, even now.
like running out at one a.m. to buy a can of cheap sour and pay the burning bill.
the fear of sleeping alone, always carrying on myself a blade and shot of tequila. w
can not trust people. can not compromise. can not distinguish. can not forgive.
bought myself a hundred dresses of that favorite brand, never feels enough..
hardly ever feel satisfied. always see the opponent as the enemy, untill proved otherwise.
except my customers. except my buyers. except my family. except the staff around?
they say there is no royalty, who ain`t know riot.
i would never forget, where we came from. brother.