Do you recognize your voice, the one that’s coming from your own mouth, when words are forming on your tongue?
ZUZANNA SZOSTAKI cried and cried and cried having Realized that the beauty of my soul was being neglected by nobody else but myself.
More Zuzanna Szostak Quotes
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And I try, I so try to fit everywhere, with everyone to be neutral, to be good and with all that, I lose myself. I lose the truest layer of all.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK -
I want you here beside me, to make me feel like the only pearl you’d be looking for in the ocean.
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So grand yet so small, so important yet so irrelevant, so beautiful yet so shallow, must thee live in illusion or does real life leave too much of a confusion?
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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.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK -
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.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK -
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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We laid in bed with our hands tied, talked about love and clear, summer skies.
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Should you find the most convenient way of breathing, it will not make you feel more alive.
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I don’t want to get down I want to get high. To stay high to fly high out of it.
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Yet now as we grow older why must we be frightened of being tranquil?
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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?
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK -
I’m dehydrated, lacking the water you pour into me every time we drown in each other’s navy blue oceans.
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On the verge of what is there to see, a beautiful landscape of the sea washing away what we’re made off, looking back we drown we fall.
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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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From time to time, I would like to cut off all the strings and lines that conclude that ridiculous puppet show they call life.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK