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The glint of mischief in your eyes is the flint in my matchstick. Striking; always this close to igniting.

Stephanie Briar

Related Topics

Eyes Ignition Mischief Myself Relationship

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Let yourself go a little wild, a little rough around through the edges; the human spirit wasn’t meant for carefully-curated perfection.
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We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
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We usually seek the divine in the sky, But religion is best found on the ground. Nature is our true creator.
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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.
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If we are what we love, Then I am whatever you are made of.
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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
In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.
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.
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Emotion = Energy in motion.
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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.
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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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How do you sleep soundly, knowing you traded roses for weeds?
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Trauma has deep roots indeed, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pull the weeds.
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The pain of your memory is sharp enough to be felt the nails raked along my back by somebody else.
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I was looking for you in all the places our love used to be. When all along I should have been looking for me.
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