Purple Popsicle's.

They taste like the memory of 2am on a Wednesday night standing on a bar stool, because your too small to reach the counter sitting down. They taste like your dad sitting next to you eating ice cream cake with a spoon telling you, you are his favorite.

Purple Popsicle's as purple as her hair the day she dyed it with eleven dollar hair dye, just so she could be different because being different reminded her of her Indiana Jones hat and sticky summer nights.Her hair smells like princess fruit snacks and secrets.

Purple Popsicle as sweet as the smarties she buys by the hundreds because to her they taste like happiness. They taste like the long hours spent drawing siblings names in calligraphy, because she didn't know how else to say I love you.

Purple Popsicle's as icy as the ocean that she drives to every Sunday, because the ocean is the only place where she ever felt free. The only place where no one could see that she was simply human.

The world will tell you that your to old for your security blanket, that you have out grown it. The boys that tell you they love you after two months will try and replace it. The same boys who hide behind cigarette smoke screens, and try to replace them with you. Just remember nicotine, is much stronger drug than you will ever be.