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The pain of your memory is sharp enough to be felt the nails raked along my back by somebody else.

Stephanie Briar

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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

Learning Live Mindset Myself Prison Trade Wings
I am a phoenix living in a culture of vultures.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Culture Live Myself
Last night, I sent you home with a kiss and a promise. I hope you still believe in roses.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Believe Home Hope Kiss Myself Night Promise Rose Yourself
We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Ourselves Stars Writing
Poetry? That’s easy. I just cut the vein, and let it bleed.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Blood Easy Myself Poetry
If we are what we love, Then I am whatever you are made of.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Love Myself Relationship 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
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
The pain of your memory is sharp enough to be felt the nails raked along my back by somebody else.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Enough Memories Myself Pain Yourself
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
The glint of mischief in your eyes is the flint in my matchstick. Striking; always this close to igniting.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Eyes Ignition Mischief Myself Relationship
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

Bed Children Fear Fight Learning Monster Myself Worth
Creatives are neither born nor created. They are activated.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Activate Born Creation Creativity
I don’t know how to put my love down, or to keep holding too much of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Abundance Control Hold On Love Myself
The day I made peace with my pain was the day I was born again.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Born Myself Pain Peace
You are what it feels like to watch the final silvers of sun fall and die into the silver ocean; tangerine sky giving way to moon-glow and starlight.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Death Fall Feeling Glow Light Moon Silver Stars Sun

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