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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

Related Topics

Home Love Ourselves Place Return Stars Time

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Trauma has deep roots indeed, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t pull the weeds.
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Stop accepting abstract noun love. Real love is always action verb.
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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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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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Our memories lurch to a reluctant halt in their funeral march, so I can pour salt over them one last time.
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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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Do I look as good as I remember, Looking back at you from over my shoulder, smug as the devil?
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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Light finds you just as I once did: an accident that is no accident.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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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
In my dreams you conjure me like a spell in the night. Let us haunt one another with uneasy peace, and die burning alive.
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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
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.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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Love me until oblivion paints your portraits on my eyelids, sinking by eons into distance that never separates us.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

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The glint of mischief in your eyes is the flint in my matchstick. Striking; always this close to igniting.
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.
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Darkness Fall Moon Myself Run Scare Stars Yourself

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