“I couldn’t care less how much money a person has, or what their job title is. Show me a person who seeks out the beauty in a wreckage; who’ll take the remnants of their troubles and stitch a sail from the tatters.”

Rise and shine, rise and shine. Fractious hope in life divine. Rise and flicker, rise and fade. Til’ death’s clasp I can’t evade.

You demanded silence and I became sonorous.

Somedays, I just need to switch it all off, and turn to the trees.

Lets conduct a study. Let’s pull up a jury. Are you a beautiful person? or inclined to wanton fury.

You don’t deserve her, but the least you can do is damned well love her.

I’ve brought myself back to life more times than I can remember. And when I say I brought myself back, I mean, I have clawed, clambered and coaxed myself from the precipice of self destruction.

I am ruled by emotion. She is a fickle leader of a volatile kingdom, where conniving skies cast intemperate clouds over my constitution.

I looked again at my new ring and in that moment all I knew, was that the greatest of adventures would be revealed in with you.

Champagne on our lips and desire on our minds and you can leave those painful memories behind and you can bring your hand to my heart as we kiss. There’s nothing else but us on nights like this.

How are you yet to learn? I don’t want grand gestures. I don’t want the world on a plate, the best life has to offer, material things or flashy gimmicks. I just want you with me.

Burnt mirror, smeared glass. Do you like what you see? If my body is a temple, then my poetry is the darkest vestry. My mouth is a chalice, and these words are sacramental.

Still, I wrote. Even when the police where coming. Even when my whole body hurt, and the slightest sound would make me quake.

Go on then, color me broken whilst I feign my surprise. Let me summon some sorrow for this wreckage inside.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, and watch me spark like a match tossed to tinder.

With all these past fears still written on my skin, it bruises me to let you in. Trauma’s that this body holds, still guard these tactile lips untold.

A seed of suspicion. A sprout of doubt. A sapling of worry. But what an oak of strength I’ve become.

Drink in the beauty and wonder at the meaning of what you see.

He’s a leader and is offering lessons in beautiful football. He has something different to any other player in the world.

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts.

I imagine myself cold as ice falling into your open arms. Everyone says it’s beautiful where I am but I’d rather be where you are.

A child’s world is fresh and new and beautiful, full of wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that for most of us that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct for what is beautiful, is dimmed and even lost before we reach adulthood.

I want you to know, that you deserve the best. You’re beautiful.

Desperate for answers, I go searching in the stars. I ask them: on a scale of one to catastrophe, how beautiful would they say we are?

Sometimes, a defeat can be more beautiful and satisfying than certain victories. The English have a point in insisting that it matters not who won or lost, but how you played the game.