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 SZOSTAKHatred conquers the sea in which is growing thee them tiny pearls struggling a little trying to solve the final riddle.
More Zuzanna Szostak Quotes
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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.
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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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Even on the darkest days the sun still rises.
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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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And, somehow that loved and loving girl can love anyone but herself.
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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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Carrying the weight of my mistakes I burst into flames that hurt my skin.
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We have to remember to do small things every single day and minute for sometimes love is simply not enough to fill our cup.
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This feeling in my chest is telling me to stay to do as I should, to be where I should but my mind is telling me to go away.
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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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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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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.
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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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We laid in bed with our hands tied, talked about love and clear, summer skies.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK