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

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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Emotion = Energy in motion.
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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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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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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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Stop accepting abstract noun love. Real love is always action verb.
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We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
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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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I am a phoenix living in a culture of vultures.
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Poetry? That’s easy. I just cut the vein, and let it bleed.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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When you focus on directing your energy away from harm and toward healing, you feed the soul and starve the ego.
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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”.
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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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The pain of your memory is sharp enough to be felt the nails raked along my back by somebody else.
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Love me until oblivion paints your portraits on my eyelids, sinking by eons into distance that never separates us.
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I count the stars from whence we came. I name them all for you; my flame.
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