Salvage

Perhaps I'm simply working from an outdated paradigm,

where I exist beyond a simple calculation of money, calories, and time,

where I can build around this enduring constant,

and still sharply turn on a dime.

-

Under the weight of it all,

the framework is creaking,

I'm mopping up the deck,

as the hull is leaking,

searching for a few specks of validity,

between the rigid floorboards of sharp critiquing.

-

Does the giver or receiver choose the color of a lie?

Does it count if it's simply omission?

When semantics becomes the dueling weapon,

you wield it with such precision.

I've always been an aperitif,

an hoers d'oeuvre,

a creme filled puff,

sweet and satisfying in the moment,

ultimately never enough.