Love me until oblivion paints your portraits on my eyelids, sinking by eons into distance that never separates us.
STEPHANIE BRIARHe’ll keep some daying and tommorwing until he has no tomorrows left. I don’t choose that.
More Stephanie Briar Quotes
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Light finds you just as I once did: an accident that is no accident.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
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 -
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 -
Stop accepting abstract noun love. Real love is always action verb.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
If we are what we love, Then I am whatever you are made of.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
Standing in your power scares a lot of people. You become something formidable, intimating, and aspirational all at once.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
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 -
I was looking for you in all the places our love used to be. When all along I should have been looking for me.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
The day I made peace with my pain was the day I was born again.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
You’re preserved inside of me; cadaversque. I both acquiesce and atrophy because of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
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 -
The pain of your memory is sharp enough to be felt the nails raked along my back by somebody else.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
The glint of mischief in your eyes is the flint in my matchstick. Striking; always this close to igniting.
STEPHANIE BRIAR