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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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Our story bleeds from my eyes until I cannot tell the stars from streetlights.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Blood Eyes Light Ourselves Stars Story
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

Bloom Eyes Hope Life Lost Myself Philosophy Relationship Remember Return Time Word
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.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Burn Chance Growth Hands Myself Strong
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
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
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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Dreams Heart Hope Love Mindset Myself Soul Strong
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

Human Perfection Rough Spirit Wild Yourself
“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Eyes Ourselves Relationship Thinking Time
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

Bad Blood Bone Break Day Direction Fingers Leadership Power Result River Skin
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
Stop accepting abstract noun love. Real love is always action verb.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Acceptance Action Difference Literature Love Self Love Stop
You’re preserved inside of me; cadaversque. I both acquiesce and atrophy because of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Myself Preserve
Creatives are neither born nor created. They are activated.
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Activate Born Creation Creativity
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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Do I look as good as I remember, Looking back at you from over my shoulder, smug as the devil?
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Devil Goodness Myself Remember
We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Ourselves Stars Writing

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