I’m dark, dreary and hopelessly cheery.
I hate you.
But, fuck, you’re handsome in those pants and in that shirt;
And well, I raise my glass to you and your love.
Because, well, there are trophies, and then there are rewards.
And then there are the simple high-fives.
And I high-five you, ahem, and your love.
Now, get the hell away from me (and my drink.)
/insanity of love and other poets
