See Through You.

Crystal ships bearing inanimate pleasantries that may or may not be constituted as friendly in nature. More of a friendly fire situation; not meant, but excused by way of negating said intention. There are others, you know. Other transparencies, looking to expose just enough to instill a fallacious quality of safety all while bearing witness to the greatness of you and what you have done with the endless pile of corpses and vagabond ideology that has insisted on making a living via a parasitic nature. A nature that infects but never lets up. A glass bullet. A poisoned tipped word, turning an age old phrase does not equate to one having no less a mercurial kind of fancy for intolerance and compassion alike. When the shadow became bigger, I knew you would be pleased. I knew you would run into the denseness of mediocrity only to be capsized by your own ego. I knew this. Meanwhile they're all riding that blue pony, that darkness you have laid out and claim to have no part in but we both know what time it is. Ponies and shadows are no substitute for tarnished spoons and honey warm sleep. A glass rig speaks volumes into the marrow of "know too much." What other alternative is there, than to march right up to said shadow, engage it proper and disintegrate? If there are other options, they have remained a mystery for 36 years and counting. I don't get care if you peek, just don't document. The Brown Madame seems to have made a point, several in fact. None of which I care to admit to, especially since there is no longer a known buffer. I came up. I came up to the apex of the thing and balanced on top of the black solder, just to remain there with more information and no where to unleash it. That's the thing about friendly fire, everyone's got an excuse as to why the inhale is happening but no accountability or gauze for the seed. Germination is killing us.