top of page


by Chloe Adams 

I love the phrase I miss you so bad

So bad

Bad like I want to inhale this moment until everything From tongue to

toes, curl and crinkle
Carry it in the wet depths of my lungs
Until we finally touch pink lips again


And I can kiss it into your mouth
Let this missing find home on the backs of your teeth, on the beast of

your tongue

Bad like the 11th century fresco of Mary in St. Sofija
Glistening tears topple down her face
She cannot break through the light around her child to caress him We

never agreed to share our loves with the open-wound world Now, we

both brim over with missing

Bad like the yearning wildflowers dotting the trail’s edge All I see is the

periwinkle of your veins
Bleeding beauty all over the place
This missing makes a mess of me

Bad like I’m jealous of the past
When you tell your moonlit stories of dancing in sticky dive bars
I feel not being there in my chest
I cannot believe you didn’t emerge, a fresh thundering foal, to me alone

Missing turns me nostalgic for memories I don’t own

Bad like your fresh cut hair shorn too close
I need its fistfuls
Brown waves catch light between my fingertips Anchor me to you

This missing floats me out into open waters

Bad, bad, bad
This missing infinite
This missing dirty
This missing bare
Baby, this missing so bad

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 and Querencia Press. You can connect with her further at @chloes1amwrites on Instagram.

[ back to archives ]

bottom of page