Light finds you just as I once did: an accident that is no accident.
STEPHANIE BRIARTo the oppressed with no seat on the table; dreaming of change and better days, I will pull up a chair, and light fires in your name.
More Stephanie Briar Quotes
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“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.
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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.
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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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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 -
Stop accepting abstract noun love. Real love is always action verb.
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I pressed the dress to my nose, and found what was left of your ghost. It was then that I remembered how to cry.
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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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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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We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
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I count the stars from whence we came. I name them all for you; my flame.
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You’re preserved inside of me; cadaversque. I both acquiesce and atrophy because of it.
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The search for external sources is nothing compared to internal forces.
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Creatives are neither born nor created. They are activated.
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The day I made peace with my pain was the day I was born again.
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Standing in your power scares a lot of people. You become something formidable, intimating, and aspirational all at once.
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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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Do I look as good as I remember, Looking back at you from over my shoulder, smug as the devil?
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The glint of mischief in your eyes is the flint in my matchstick. Striking; always this close to igniting.
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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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I don’t know how to put my love down, or to keep holding too much of it.
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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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Our story bleeds from my eyes until I cannot tell the stars from streetlights.
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The stars are where we came from. They orchestrated our return to the place we can always come home: our ancient, timeless love.
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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.
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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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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