We have to remember to do small things every single day and minute for sometimes love is simply not enough to fill our cup.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAKSometimes you don’t miss the place, the time but the state of mind.
More Zuzanna Szostak Quotes
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Do you recognize your voice, the one that’s coming from your own mouth, when words are forming on your tongue?
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I cried today and I cried yesterday, Salty tears rushing down. My face fastened breaths, palms in sweat and the unbearable guilt of my being.
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And when I was looking at myself in the mirror, I realized that beneath these scars lies a woman, that is good that is kind, that I myself aspired to be.
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I cried and cried and cried having Realized that the beauty of my soul was being neglected by nobody else but myself.
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The beautiful repose of the night its silence and mystery contrasts the commotion of my soul.
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I can truly see myself in that light, the green iris of my eye like a jungle, full of life. And when snow covers the green, and my skin looses its color I crave that wilderness in my eye.
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When the grass turns brown nobody seems to care. It’s just temporary, they say yet I can feel it will stay and stay.
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Blissful comfort of pain and sorrow ravishes my rationality and drinks up my hope, for even thee whom I romanticize so deeply leaves me in a pool of intrusive thoughts telling me no matter what I say or do even the mirror despises you.
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No matter where we are, what air we breathe or which stars we are under. Your eyes always take me to dream land; that inner child-like peace of mind. That I crave when you’re gone and afar and I only see you when in my sleep.
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Hatred conquers the sea in which is growing thee them tiny pearls struggling a little trying to solve the final riddle.
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We laid in bed with our hands tied, talked about love and clear, summer skies.
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A feeling deliciously bitter lingers on my tongue. It’s sharp relish urges me to keep my mouth shut and my conscience clear. Though how can one act so when one’s veins are stuffed with what’s not said before?
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Would you want to breathe if you were to ask for oxygen? Would you want to drink if you were to beg for a glass of water? would you want to eat if you were to pray for a plate of food? Well, I wouldn’t.
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Finding inner peace is a lost art for with every breath and sigh new stimuli comes and leaves us in a pool of racing thoughts and worries.
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I feel all that, your touch your presence your breath but can’t tell if its you I’m looking at.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK