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I pressed the dress to my nose, and found what was left of your ghost. It was then that I remembered how to cry.

Stephanie Briar

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The search for external sources is nothing compared to internal forces.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Compare Force Search Worth
He’ll keep some daying and tommorwing until he has no tomorrows left. I don’t choose that.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Choice Himself Relationship Self Love
You’re preserved inside of me; cadaversque. I both acquiesce and atrophy because of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Myself Preserve
In my dreams we got past the parking lot; you took me past the old, oak door, led me up onto the vacant altar, and offered me to every god whose name you invoked as you worshipped my body.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Body Devotion Dreams Myself Name Park Past Relationship Religious Sex Worship Yourself
Some days, my mind will still be in prison, but I will live in spite of it. I unlearn how to swim; I trade my gills for lungs and wings.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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It quietly stops my breath to realize that my greatest grand gesture, my last, best act of love was to let you go.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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When you focus on directing your energy away from harm and toward healing, you feed the soul and starve the ego.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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How do you sleep soundly, knowing you traded roses for weeds?
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Rose Sleep Sound Trade Yourself
Anxiety is living with an apple on your head and you imagine that everyone you know stands watching with a bow to shoot an arrow at it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Anxiety Head Imagination Live Mental Shoot Stand Yourself
Creatives are neither born nor created. They are activated.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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Your darkness does not scare me, nor will I run from you; like a star, I’m falling for the phases of your moon.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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When I was a child, I used to fear monsters under the bed. I have since learned that most monsters are found within. And they are always worth fighting.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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Can hope bloom in the shade? Can time give back what it takes away? I once saw the answers to life in your eyes; now I can remember the words to goodbye.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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Light finds you just as I once did: an accident that is no accident.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Accident Hope Light Myself
“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Eyes Ourselves Relationship Thinking Time
As if flesh and skin and hands are any match for bullets. As if bones won’t crack in hails of powder and lead. As if rivers of blood are not the direct result of trigger fingers that bend but do not break on “bad days”.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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