freedom is pure and utter bliss
the scent of summer and vanilla bean ice cream
cannabis at low tide and lush blooms perfume
and we were just kids
oh, but we were only kids
shit happens
broken condom wrappers and red solos
awkward tan lines and suspicious bruises
connect-the-dots freckles under red eyes
summer would never remain the same
to be only kids
hanging-out-the-sunroof-on-the-highway-doing-105 type of beat
empty spray paint cans and abandoned factories.
victories.
screaming at the top of our withering lungs
to an intangible voice
hoping, waiting, only to hear nothing in return
confirming our childhoods were over
and freedom came with a price
we were just kids.