The Hol[ ]y Tape...

None of this has changed, we are both the same.

Addicted to the one that left you, we can't forget you.

We colonized in war, predicting many more.

Addicted to the hand that fed you, you can't remember.



Your colour. I wonder...

The more trouble that we get in,

The more fun if we don't get caught up in it.

Prefabricate that skin!



Help me find out, if this is all predictable.

Or is your troubled fate, relentless in its ways, destroying all your days?



(These words coincide!!! Self-taught Suicide!!!)