I dip the quill of intention into a font of temptation.
I write pretty words on a blank page
To watch them all get sullied.

The ebbs and flows of the tide remind me of life.  How it pushes and pulls, washing over the stones until they're sand...  It's cyclical decay it is beautiful.

She's like a dark chocolate bar
As close as possible to being pure
While still being refined,
Presented with perfect lines
All neat and organized
To be broken and shared
So that everyone can taste her melt in their mouths
Even the over zealous biters...

Tastes bitter to me

You'll never get to experience the depth of the still water until you're submerged.
The iceberg of the mind...
There are no mistakes, only lessons manifesting in various degrees of challenge.
Adversity is the crucible through which character is shaped.
Let my equanimity be mistaken for indifference,
as my tolerance is for acceptance.
Because the mountain piercing the heavens is actually a dormant volcano.

I'll be content in this contemporary contempt because it's only temporary.

But I'll still paint you in my memories
a vibrant monochrome.

Merry Christmas, detox
I’ll see you this afternoon
Happy holidays

Sometimes I sit and wonder about the strangers who read my life.  
Do you think I’m using rhetoric?
Do you think I’m spinning webs?
Do you think it’s all words spewed from a wandering mind of fantasy?
Am I?

There are three sides to every story
That is yours mine and the truth
If I recorded every moment
and shared them all
With you
Would you see my lense as skewed?
Undoubtably it is.
Can a man really be objective?
One can try,
But there is no try
Only do or do not.

I wish I wrote fiction.
Maybe I’ll give that a try