There are a handful of vague words you should never use:
this or these, in a non-specific way,
good,
bad,
thing,
something,
anything,
everything-
           but
nothing is acceptable as there is often no alternative.

You should stop to smell the roses
I think they're starting to rot

Luckily, the stench of your lies
should hide any signs
of decomposition

Not that you've noticed death before
not even when you tore
my heart from my chest

Certainly not when you lied
and consequently died
in my eyes.

Nostalgia laps over memories like waves brushing sandy beaches
Hot, hazy days cooled only by the frigid waters of time
When freedom tasted like sticky sweet ice
Melting so slowly, too quickly
School bells end those happy days
Waiting for the next year

Sunny days barely touch me through the walls of my home.
Now I live in a box in the sky
But heights don’t fill me with that giddy rush
That pure emancipation.
Nothing seems to make me so happy as those days
When freedom tasted like sticky sweet ice
Melting so slowly, too quickly
But we were children, then
Everything was a thrill.

I imagine leaving
Rushing down country roads
Ignoring the world
Because what’s the point of it?
Sitting in a box, only going where someone else takes you?
There isn’t one.

The day I decide is deafening
Silence screams so sickeningly.
Tell them I'm sick.
Don't tell them I'm sick of them.
Just sick.
I run.

Suddenly, I’ve liberated myself
Unimpeded by obligations.
I don’t need those memories
When freedom tasted like sticky sweet ice
Melting so slowly, too quickly,
I have that coursing through my capillaries
Creating a cocktail of chemicals
Adrenaline and endorphins.
No, I’m free.