Day one I was picking flowers off Tonoloway Ridge.
It's kind of pathetic,
That it's kind of poetic
Day two I was throwing myself off of Hatem Bridge,
Halo of feathers surround my skull.

The city is 'blue-black' in the way that it feels,
Colors that are seen become surreal.
My fingers are 'red-black' from pushing them too deep in my eyes,
Being told I'd see a galaxy if I really tried.

Thanks for all the stupid little things I know,
Like how every flake isn't unique in the snow.
You helped me not to pull hard on my fingernails at night,
Now they tear apart like paper.

Day one I was throwing myself off of Hatem Bridge,
It's kind of poetic,
That it's kind of pathetic.
Day two I was picking flowers off Tonoloway Ridge,
Halo of daisies tangle my hair.