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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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Home Love Ourselves Place Return Stars Time

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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.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Death Fall Feeling Glow Light Moon Silver Stars Sun
We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Ourselves Stars Writing
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
Stop accepting abstract noun love. Real love is always action verb.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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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.
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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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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When I was a child, I used to fear monsters under the bed. I have since learned that most monsters are found within. And they are always worth fighting.
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

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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

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The search for external sources is nothing compared to internal forces.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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

Culture Live Myself
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.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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How do you sleep soundly, knowing you traded roses for weeds?
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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

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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

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