And, somehow that loved and loving girl can love anyone but herself.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAKFinding 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.
More Zuzanna Szostak Quotes
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I believed less is what I needed, what I tried to achieve; I thought less is more, better, the minimalistic beauty of life.
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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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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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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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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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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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Curled up in a ball slowly shutting down as my body is being devoured by those ugly, fearsome monsters that have lived in my guts ever since I could remember.
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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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Even on the darkest days the sun still rises.
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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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I gave all of my vulnerability away for you, to you exposed the dirt of my soul not understood. Kept on, waiting for hope, in despair.
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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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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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Yet now as we grow older why must we be frightened of being tranquil?
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK






