“The prettiest girls shine brightest in the dark.”

I could never love her, the fear of losing would be too strong.

Sometimes I want a quiet life other times I want to go a little bit fucking Gatsby.

I worry there is something broken in our generation, there are too many sad eyes on happy faces.

It was her chaos that made her beautiful.

She wore the moonlight-like lingerie.

Adventure runs on all sorts of whiskey.

True art comes from flying with the madness so close you burn your eyelashes.

A sky full of stars and he was staring at her.

She was everything real in a world of make-believe.

Love is strange dark magic.

I aspire to be an old man with an old wife laughing at old jokes from a wild youth.

Thinking of you is a poison I drink often.

I love you most in that place between coffee and sleep.

We were strange in love with her and I too wild to last too rare to die.

I want to be with someone who dreams of doing everything in life and nothing on rainy Sunday afternoons.

We, humans, are so tortured by not properly guessing what will make us happy.

I started writing poetry when I was six. I had this teacher who didn’t believe the poems I’d bring in were mine because they were dark and sad. But I wrote about what I experienced in my childhood.

When darkness came, and it did, I learned that I can scream at the top of my lungs without making any sound at all.

Darkness, that here surrounds our purblind understanding, will vanish at the dawning of eternal day.

Be the light that floods the wounds of people lost in their own darkness.

These days everything has a dark mode. I feel – accepted.

Light is much more than the absence of darkness. And you, my love, are much more than the absence of him.

Faith is a dark night for man, but in this very way it gives him light.

God is a dark night to man in this life.