Love me until oblivion paints your portraits on my eyelids, sinking by eons into distance that never separates us.
STEPHANIE BRIARI fall headlong into everything that lights me on fire. I know not of restraint. I was born to burn.
More Stephanie Briar Quotes
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I erected cities with adoration on my tongue and you burnt mine down in the wake of your love.
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To the oppressed with no seat on the table; dreaming of change and better days, I will pull up a chair, and light fires in your name.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
Emotion = Energy in motion.
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The day I made peace with my pain was the day I was born again.
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In the absence of you I look to the moon and pray that the stars light my way, too.
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If we are what we love, Then I am whatever you are made of.
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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 -
Do I look as good as I remember, Looking back at you from over my shoulder, smug as the devil?
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
You’re preserved inside of me; cadaversque. I both acquiesce and atrophy because of it.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
I fall headlong into everything that lights me on fire. I know not of restraint. I was born to burn.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
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 -
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.
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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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It quietly stops my breath to realize that my greatest grand gesture, my last, best act of love was to let you go.
STEPHANIE BRIAR -
Our story bleeds from my eyes until I cannot tell the stars from streetlights.
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The search for external sources is nothing compared to internal forces.
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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.
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We weren’t written in the stars; all that glitters wasn’t ours.
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I am a phoenix living in a culture of vultures.
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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.
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Poetry? That’s easy. I just cut the vein, and let it bleed.
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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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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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Last night, I sent you home with a kiss and a promise. I hope you still believe in roses.
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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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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