beretta vertec review

Living under the stairs
with the party raging above,
I crawled into myself
and lost my way.

I spent long days in
freezing solitude, faceless,
always retreating to
shadows in the corners
and the company they provided,
like a spider or a child.

My dreams taught me lessons
that my eyes couldnapos;t see
hidden in dirty worlds.

Smog on the horizon
where I was a building.
When every day is a Sunday,
time is an obscuration,
a distorted figure.
No lines or boundaries,
no aesthetics. Amoebic.

I promised myself
that integrity was more important.
But that was also
when I had the luxury to believe it.

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