black
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“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.

Stephanie Briar

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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

Bloom Eyes Hope Life Lost Myself Philosophy Relationship Remember Return Time Word
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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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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Burn Chance Growth Hands Myself Strong
I am a phoenix living in a culture of vultures.
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Culture Live Myself
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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If we are what we love, Then I am whatever you are made of.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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Emotion = Energy in motion.
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Creatives are neither born nor created. They are activated.
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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
In my dreams we got past the parking lot; you took me past the old, oak door, led me up onto the vacant altar, and offered me to every god whose name you invoked as you worshipped my body.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Body Devotion Dreams Myself Name Park Past Relationship Religious Sex Worship Yourself
We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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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 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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Standing in your power scares a lot of people. You become something formidable, intimating, and aspirational all at once.
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Our story bleeds from my eyes until I cannot tell the stars from streetlights.
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Blood Eyes Light Ourselves Stars Story
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

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