For the most important type of love is love for oneself and only you can hear all of your beautiful verses that never got to see the light of the day.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAKI 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.
More Zuzanna Szostak Quotes
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Oh, how I wish you were here bathing in the silky sheets of my dreams, your lips on mine a flame and wine smoke in the air clouds filled with thoughts oh, how I long for your skin and touch.
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And, somehow that loved and loving girl can love anyone but herself.
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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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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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Carrying the weight of my mistakes I burst into flames that hurt my skin.
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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 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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We laid in bed with our hands tied, talked about love and clear, summer skies.
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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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Should you find the most convenient way of breathing, it will not make you feel more alive.
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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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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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Each and every bad seed counts, for even if they don’t survive or grow too beautifully, a bad seed allows you to re-evalutate the others and appreciate them even more.
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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.
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK