Sarcastic Lovers
They look like a perfect couple, if you squint–she rolls her eyes, he nods and smirks,
Insults land softer than kisses, affection disguised as barbs, and that’s how their love works.
Every compliment has teeth, every “I love you” lands with a wink,
They trade blows in public, but in private, it’s not as cold as you’d think.
Beneath the jokes and jabs is a strange kind of glue,
Their romance runs on sarcasm–fuel for the few who get through.
Other people stare, unsure if it’s love or war,
But they keep score in snark, and neither keeps count anymore.
Sarcastic lovers: romance as a fencing match, wit for wit,
Nobody says sorry, nobody ever has to admit.
They’d rather share a laugh at someone else’s expense,
But behind every punchline is a defense.
Mocking is foreplay, eye rolls are caress,
And the closest thing to a love letter is a text that says, “You’re a mess.”
They tease until it hurts, then laugh until it stings,
Two bruised hearts who need sharp edges more than rings.
They’ll dance around the truth, never too close to the fire,
Because honesty is risk, and sarcasm is safer when you tire.
Every night ends with a barb, every morning a grin,
They’re the only ones who can take the heat, let alone let anyone in.
For them, love’s not flowers or songs, it’s an arm wrestle in bed,
Where winning means losing, but at least nothing’s left unsaid.
They’ll keep going, keep joking, never giving up the round–
Because deep down, they know only a twisted heart can love just the same.