Popsicles - Emily Kinney

Indian summer, how much more can I take?

I’m begging for the heat to break

My throat is parched, my skin is red

Fan blowing on my face in a sweat-soaked bed

Fall is a daydream from when I was young

Backpacks, bonfires, cool in the sun

Crickets and kisses beneath the moon

Sneaking upstairs to my bedroom

If I could take back just one thing

I’d rewind to the last day of spring

You held my hand and squeezed it hard

We walked until the streets got dark

Gave me some new book to read

Sayin' I hope you find what you need

And just like that we’re the broken-hearted

Just like that my fever started

And the green grass turned to sand

The sky filled with a haze

We thought we wanted freedom

But what we got were these dog days

And our lonely hearts are lazy

Sipping a stranger’s salty kiss

Begging for a body

We’ll take anything we can get

Labor Day weekend, 90 degrees

A bottle of beer between my knees

A smoke, a sigh, a sideways glance

He’s not the type to ask me to dance

Not the type to hold my hand

But he once played in some famous band

An empty pool, we both take a dive

We leave that party for a drive

But his hands are like sandpaper

His eyes are dark and dull

Months of dehydration have really taken their toll

And our tangled torsos tighten

As we’re movin' out and in

He leaves before the traffic

And I’m burning up again

And I’m angry when he leaves me

I love, they love me not

Popsicle to my temples

I’m so fucking hot

And I’m frustrated forever

About the air that hangs around

Waftin' around my apartment

I can’t cool down

Indian summer, how much more can I take?

Just waiting for…

The heat to break