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He’ll keep some daying and tommorwing until he has no tomorrows left. I don’t choose that.

Stephanie Briar

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Choice Himself Relationship Self Love

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

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

Bad Blood Bone Break Day Direction Fingers Leadership Power Result River Skin
In my dreams you conjure me like a spell in the night. Let us haunt one another with uneasy peace, and die burning alive.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Alive Burn Death Dreams Easy Haunt Myself Night Peace
In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Absence Light Moon Myself Prayer Stars Way
Do I look as good as I remember, Looking back at you from over my shoulder, smug as the devil?
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Devil Goodness Myself Remember
You could not keep me fed by throwing me bones and empty promises. I am ashamed to admit how much starving I did before I finally left.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Bone Empty Food Satisfaction Shame Starve Yourself
Our memories lurch to a reluctant halt in their funeral march, so I can pour salt over them one last time.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Death Funeral Memories Oneself Time
How do you sleep soundly, knowing you traded roses for weeds?
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Rose Sleep Sound Trade Yourself
I would throw down roots with you if I ever had the chance. We’d grow strong in tender shoots, and bloom in burning hands.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Burn Chance Growth Hands Myself Strong
Trauma has deep roots indeed, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pull the weeds.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Deep Self Love Trauma Yourself
I erected cities with adoration on my tongue and you burnt mine down in the wake of your love.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Admire Burn Love Myself Tongue Yourself
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
Our story bleeds from my eyes until I cannot tell the stars from streetlights.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Blood Eyes Light Ourselves Stars Story
We usually seek the divine in the sky, But religion is best found on the ground. Nature is our true creator.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Best Creation Divine Nature Ourselves Religion Seek Sky True
Creatives are neither born nor created. They are activated.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Activate Born Creation Creativity
Love me until oblivion paints your portraits on my eyelids, sinking by eons into distance that never separates us.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Distance Eyes Love Myself Painting Portrait Relationship Separate
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

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