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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.

Stephanie Briar

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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

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I fall headlong into everything that lights me on fire. I know not of restraint. I was born to burn.
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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.
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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.
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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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Standing in your power scares a lot of people. You become something formidable, intimating, and aspirational all at once.
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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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The stars are where we came from. They orchestrated our return to the place we can always come home: our ancient, timeless love.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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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.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Clothes Cry Ghost Myself Remember
Stop accepting abstract noun love. Real love is always action verb.
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It quietly stops my breath to realize that my greatest grand gesture, my last, best act of love was to let you go.
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.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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Trauma has deep roots indeed, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pull the weeds.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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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.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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You’re preserved inside of me; cadaversque. I both acquiesce and atrophy because of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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I am a phoenix living in a culture of vultures.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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