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The day I made peace with my pain was the day I was born again.

Stephanie Briar

Related Topics

Born Myself Pain Peace

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Poetry? That’s easy. I just cut the vein, and let it bleed.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Blood Easy Myself Poetry
He’ll keep some daying and tommorwing until he has no tomorrows left. I don’t choose that.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Choice Himself Relationship Self Love
I don’t know how to put my love down, or to keep holding too much of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Abundance Control Hold On Love Myself
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
Light finds you just as I once did: an accident that is no accident.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Accident Hope Light 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

Home Love Ourselves Place Return Stars Time
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
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
We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Ourselves Stars Writing
“Ashes”, we once thought, but the embers in our eyes might have bought us time.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Eyes Ourselves Relationship Thinking Time
You’re preserved inside of me; cadaversque. I both acquiesce and atrophy because of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Myself Preserve
In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Absence Light Moon Myself Prayer Stars Way
Our memories lurch to a reluctant halt in their funeral march, so I can pour salt over them one last time.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Death Funeral Memories Oneself Time
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
Creatives are neither born nor created. They are activated.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Activate Born Creation Creativity
I was looking for you in all the places our love used to be. When all along I should have been looking for me.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Lost Love Myself Place Relationship Seek Yourself

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