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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

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I am strong. My heart still hopes. My mind still dreams. My soul still craves pouring energy into everything that I love.
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He’ll keep some daying and tommorwing until he has no tomorrows left. I don’t choose that.
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I am a phoenix living in a culture of vultures.
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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”.
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In my dreams you conjure me like a spell in the night. Let us haunt one another with uneasy peace, and die burning alive.
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Our memories lurch to a reluctant halt in their funeral march, so I can pour salt over them one last time.
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In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.
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Last night, I sent you home with a kiss and a promise. I hope you still believe in roses.
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