Poetry by Chloe Adams

Carl Wycoff CC




Advice for girls alone in their bedrooms at 1 am with too many candles lit and chip crumbs in the sheets

Buy the journal.
If you think it is pretty,
then adorn it 
with chicken-scratched and bloody drafts 
that have yet to scab over.
You’ll need it eventually 
or maybe you won’t.
But some things get to exist 
just for loveliness,
don’t they?

Write about your depression.
How joylessness once tied you up,
with all its tentacles,
left you glued to dirty laundry 
and the bottom of cracker boxes.
Mom and dad know anyway.
People who claim to love you 
should hear it anyway.
The ones who matter 
will love you anyway,
right?

Tell them all how you came back from it too.
How the ring came back to your laughter,
Joy tolling in your throat.
How you didn’t even notice 
until you heard it,
clattering in your own ears.
Delightful shock.
And meds in orange bottles 
cast sunshine light 
through the windows of your ribs
so warmth hit your heart again.
And you can harvest a little extra warmth 
for the overcast days,
can’t you, with this help?

Write about love.
Even if you say you aren’t,
you are
and everyone can tell.
You might as well be honest about it.
Don’t you crave honesty, 
even, mostly, from yourself?

When you have a thought,
in the shower
or the hallway at work,
jot it down.
I can assure you,
you will not remember the good idea later.
Only that you had a good idea.
And you don’t want to wonder about lost things,
do you?

Use the unkind men 
you once hooked up with
as metaphors.
They’ve already
used you as one and 
fair is fair. 
Sometimes, I don’t believe in forgiveness.
Sometimes, I think anger feels better,
we can admit that, right?

Write about how Big Daddy’s secret moonshine
runs through your blood
and mixes with the juice 
of Pappa’s pickled green tomatoes.
How you’re allowed to love it all.
And how it turns your blood holy water. 
Haven’t you always been sacred vessel?

Send your words as texts,
Instagram captions,
perfumed letters,
submissions,
and books.
You can.

You can do it scared.
After all,
you’ve done it all 
scared. 
Haven’t you?

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Chloe Adams (she/her) is a poet and educator residing in the Bay Area of California. She writes creative nonfiction about mental health, navigating romance, and exploring familial identity. Chloe has been previously published in Free Verse Revolution, Querencia Press, Driplitmag, and Inherspacejournal. You can connect with her further at @chloes1amwrites on Instagram.