I drink coffee like water,
I still never know what to do
I still without know what to feel
I still never know what to say.
I still don't know how to get out of bed in the right time.
But I think that something are changin
sometimes, I find myself afraid of this change, but I don't want stop it.
I always change, but this time is different. I'm maturing..
It's not pretty or endearing,
it's inevitable.
I'm a realist, I'm indecisive, individualist - as usual
I still whisper you secrets, I am still looking to be saved.
Yes, I'm a little bit frail, but is normal
sometimes I am so strong and sometimes I'm weak.
But I don't show it always.
My soul hurts too, but i resist to cry.
My heart is ugly, but I know that it has utility
I think sometimes words losts their meaning,
sometimes everything is grey
and sometimes the city is sucking away at my soul, with my friends, my desires and my feelings.


Cold.
Inside me.