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I count the stars from whence we came. I name them all for you; my flame.

Stephanie Briar

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Count Dedication Myself Name Relationship Stars Yourself

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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”.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Bad Blood Bone Break Day Direction Fingers Leadership Power Result River Skin
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
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
Our story bleeds from my eyes until I cannot tell the stars from streetlights.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Blood Eyes Light Ourselves Stars Story
Emotion = Energy in motion.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Emotion Energy Motion One Liner Philosophy
Light finds you just as I once did: an accident that is no accident.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Accident Hope Light Myself
Creatives are neither born nor created. They are activated.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Activate Born Creation Creativity
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

Darkness Fall Moon Myself Run Scare Stars Yourself
I am a phoenix living in a culture of vultures.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Culture Live Myself
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

Act Best Breathe Greatness Last Let Go Love Myself Quiet
I erected cities with adoration on my tongue and you burnt mine down in the wake of your love.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Admire Burn Love Myself Tongue Yourself
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
The pain of your memory is sharp enough to be felt the nails raked along my back by somebody else.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Enough Memories Myself Pain Yourself
Poetry? That’s easy. I just cut the vein, and let it bleed.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Blood Easy Myself Poetry
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

Bed Children Fear Fight Learning Monster Myself Worth
If we are what we love, Then I am whatever you are made of.
STEPHANIE BRIAR

Love Myself Relationship Yourself

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