Punching Gravel

i’m so sad
that i want to punch gravel
until the flesh of my hands
is stripped away
and only bloody stumps remain
bones snapping and crunching
mangled remains
useless now
i strain and i scream
because it hurts so much
i have no hands left to punch with
and i’m still so sad

Kind of Dramatic

I’m sick of this feeling
Of not understanding
The things that we’ve been through
The things we are planning
And where I fit into
This complex schematic
Better draw me a graphic
‘Cause I’m getting frantic
And panicking makes me
Act kind of dramatic
Like I’m in a movie
Surrounded by actors
Each part that they’re playing
Is one of the factors
Of the equation
I can’t understand it
Must’ve missed school that day
But it’s not like I planned it

Witherbank

Reeds and Trees,
Mirrored by the water,
Darkened and muddy,
Each distorted reflection,
Looks down and wonders,
What if we are the ones,
Rippling on the surface,
Of some other river,
In an upside-down world.

Exactly What You Need

In space, no one can hear you
Lean
Beef patties pressed on a
Machine
Based learning algorithms and
Schemes
And this bass when it drops well you know it’s
Obscene
And you recognise his
Face
‘Cause you’ve seen it in
Dreams
And you’re starting to
Think
This might be exactly what you
Need
To replace what remains of
Who
You used to be