WHAT LOVE IS, AND NOT.

Love is me, balking in the face of a quick fix,

Love is me driving all night to keep sane.

Love has no safety button,

rather it pushes you,

straight into hell.

Love gets you drunk at the party,

and drives you home without seat-belts.

Love is not acceptance.

She does not rush to welcome you home,

smelling of fried chicken and thyme.

Love gives you the worst of her babies.