Author: lina adams

my resolutions

i wish i had better words

to describe how it feels

when the person who loves you most

stops loving you.

but i don’t.

i just have the scars

on a broken heart

that will never really fade.

i will never be okay with how she just left

-but i think that’s okay.

i sill feel weird calling anyone my best friend

-but it won’t be this way forever

i wish she were here every second of every day

-because she’s the coolest human.

someday this will all be okay.

not today

or tomorrow

but someday.

until then,

i will rise like the sun every morning

loving harder

holding onto all the threads of hope i have left

because that is what she taught me.

hearts beat stronger after they break.

so will i.

19

you are the reason my heart kept beating.

i followed you around,

i always have.

i couldn’t stay away.

i let you see the parts of me that weren’t all that pretty,

and with every touch,

you fixed them.

proud of me,

that’s the only way i wanted you to be,

to look at me and love what you saw.

i was nothing without you.

i can thank you for how strong i have become.

i thought that we were fine,

but lying isn’t better than silence.

you say you’d rather be alone,

i know it’s easier to run.

no regrets is what we said,

but you’ve gone to a place i cannot find.

say something,

i’m giving up on you.

i’m sorry that i couldn’t get to you.

you are the reason i’m losing my sleep.

i see you in the daytime

i hear you at night,

it’s a pale imitation,

burns in my eyes.

i’d climb every mountain

swim every ocean

just to be with you

and fix what i’ve broken.

can there be a day beyond this night?

is there a moment when it all makes sense,

when saying goodbye doesn’t feel like the end?

sometimes i can’t help blaming you

for leaving me here,

what am i supposed to to do?

who would’ve known how bittersweet this would taste?

this grief has a gravity.

this is cold.

this is empty.

this is numb.

i’m closing every door,

sick of wanting more.

nothing compares,

no worries or cares.

i’ve seen dark before

but not like this.

anywhere i would’ve followed you,

i can’t find my direction,

i’m all alone

the only star that guided me was you.

nobody said that it would last forever

that doesn’t mean we didn’t try to get there,

that doesn’t mean it was a lie.

i don’t want to cry alone,

i need you to hold me tonight,

i need you.

sometimes i pray for you in my dreams.

you gave up on us in the end.

you’re the one that i love,

and i’m saying goodbye.

you’re still written on the scars in my heart,

you were good to me.

never mind,

i’ll find someone like you.

i wish you all the love you’re looking for,

i hope you find your peace,

i hope you’ve never felt more free,

even if

i won’t be there.

you should be sad.

after everything you’ve done,

i’m proud of who i am.

this doesn’t even sound like truth,

to grow from a bruise.

but i don’t need you,

i found a strength i’ve never known.

i can make it on my own.

i can breathe again.

after byu’s honor code “clarification”

it is a cruel thing

to give hope

when it is not hope at all

but a flaxen cord

a trip wire

vultures circling overhead.

teach me again

the great plan of happiness

remind me how it works for everyone

that every soul has a place,

plays a part.

teach me how it ignores my existence

how it twists my love to selfishness.

it’s funny i don’t remember god

saying any kind of love was wrong

but tell me again the promises of a broken exaltation

are no longer mine to hold,

and watch me as I don’t even pretend to break.

for a church that prides itself on love

you have the wrong stance on pride.

cut us again

again

again

watch us stand

see the rainbow bleeding from our veins

we were born this way

your god made us this way,

and you were the one who said he didn’t make mistakes.

tell me again that you don’t “get” the protesting

that it doesn’t make sense.

i will tell you again that it was never for you

the banners were never yours.

our colors fly higher than any celestial kingdom

for the ones who still have to hide

the ones entwined with their demons at night

this is their hope

their promise

our fight.

it’s the same love

it’s the same hate

it’s the same humanity we’ve lost

buried in the grounds of religious conviction.

we’ll scream it until we don’t have to

our voices refuse to silence.

if “homosexual behavior”

is the sin i am remembered for

watch me riot in hell.

#lovewins

i used to make a new plan to die

every six months.

or maybe i didn’t make a new plan

just altered the old one,

the one that never really left my mind in the first place.

depression

anxiety

broken

it’s easy to forget what it is you live for

when all you’re trying to do is survive.

so eventually,

i made a list:

good hair days

running in the rain

watching netflix during lunch

being an adopted little sister

deep conversations that make me feel like myself after not feeling that way for a long time

bath bombs (and the self-care baths they are used in)

poetry journals with pictures of aggressive hugging and encouraging post-its in the front cover

sister attempted again

broken family

failure

some would say it worked:

i’m still here.

my heart is beating

my lungs are breathing

i’m still here.

barely alive

hurts to breathe

hurts to think

snow storms

harry potter

the vibrations of my guitar strings

it’s been almost a year since dying was on my schedule.

but i’m still just surviving.

it’s easier to say that you’re tired

than to say that you’re breaking.

i keep adding to my list

poetry slams

ice cream

profound quotes

hope is not the light thing we believe it to be.

it is knowledge

grit

waking up in the morning.

hope is knowing that my life will someday look like the beautiful things i’ve made it,

and waking up to see it.

strength is knowing i shouldn’t have to make all of those beautiful things,

but getting out of bed to build them anyway.

cal berkeley

being a school counselor

future kids

my counselor looked at me last week,

asked:

“are you thinking of killing yourself?”

friend overdosed

grandma dying

family just gets worse

i said:

“no.”

and i meant it.

so here are my instructions for living a life:

love

be loved

stay

(please.

i’m begging you to please,

just stay.)

some days

you survive from one breath to the next

some days

your stomach only hurts from laughing so hard

some days

some days

some days

some days

you find out one of your friends is in the hospital

they tried to overdose

again

some days

you find out that your grandma is dying

and even though you knew this months ago,

her not being able to get dressed

makes it real

some days

your sister sobs in your car

hyperventilating

panic

while you pray to whatever gods you stopped believing in

that she’ll be okay

some days

you get the job you applied for

you put your two weeks in for the job you hate

move on

some days

you only get four hours of sleep

after writing poems in the dark until 1 am

hoping the words will stop the thoughts

some days

this all happens in twenty-four hours

while it feels like twenty-four years

shocks you when there aren’t any gray hairs

there are no days

where you get to breathe

you never get the choice to stop it all

the world will not wait for you

it will only watch you drown

if i still believed in prayers

i would ask god to make sure he was ready for you

i don’t believe in mansions up above

or streets paved in gold

but i know that wherever you’re going after this-

it won’t be boring.

no god could ever be ready for you.

you are too much of every good thing i have ever wanted to be

the hair dye alone would take all your angel wages.

you have so much heart in you

so much love in you

so much soul in you

it can’t just disappear.

i don’t know where you’re going after this

or if there is an “after this”

but i’d like to think i know your soul

and i’d like to think that all the love you’ve given us

won’t die with you

because if you have to go

-against my very selfish wishes

i need some part of you to stay

to remind me why i love at all.

if i still believed in prayers

i might be grateful to know where you’re going

but the truth is:

it doesn’t matter

because i am too selfish

and just want you here.

i can’t stand that you know more about me

it should be the other way around

i wish i would’ve asked you for more stories

i wish i could remember the ones you’ve already told

i’m not ready to start grieving again

i’m not going in blind this time

i know that it never ends

that there is no other side

waiting for someone to die

is like being thrown into fire

and being surprised

when you start burning alive.

they are not gone

but they are not truly here either

and there are no words poetic enough

it just hurts.

you are not allowed to die.

your lungs are not allowed to fill up with fluid

your disease is not allowed to take you

you are not allowed to die.

it doesn’t matter than i understand all the big medical words the doctor uses

they don’t apply to you

the diagnosis isn’t real.

i knew it was bad

when i saw you last

and your hair was gray.

it should’ve been red and green

for christmas

because you always had to match all the holidays.

i can’t stand

that we’ve already had our last real conversation

because everything after this

will just be an attempt

at goodbye.

the thought of you as just a memory

a story i’ll tell some day

makes me forget how to breathe

words just don’t pulse strong enough for you.

they don’t capture the excitement in your eyes when you showed me the ellen show for the first time

or the craziness of your kitchen during hanukkah

you can’t just be a memory

there’s too much of you to

just

die.

you’re not allowed to die

i’m not ready.

i’m not ready to look at all the books you gave me and cry

i’m not ready to put on my black dress

i’m not ready to go to the library alone

i’m not ready to sit at iceberg and get a milkshake without you

i’m not ready

i’m not ready

i’m not ready

please don’t leave me.

in·teg·ri·ty/inˈteɡrədē/

1. the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness.
2. the state of being whole and undivided

they say integrity

is doing the right thing

when no one is watching.

but what they don’t say

is how easy it is to lose

while everyone looks up to you

watching your every move.

integrity

is what you lose

when you’ve been pretending to be someone

you used to be

and no longer are

for the sake of everyone around you

who needs you to be who you were

so they can sleep at night

while your demons make you bleed.

i know the cracks on the floor of my shower

through blurry eyes

better than than i know

what makes me happy

because i don’t get to be the person i want to be

i’m too busy reminding everyone

of who they wish i still was

she asks me to tell her about myself

but it’s been so long

since i knew anything all at

i glance around at the faded broken pieces i am pretending to be

and don’t even know

if there’s anything worth telling.

all her life,

she had learned that love was a dangerous thing.

when she thought of love,

she heard her mother’s voice

screaming that she was the reason their family was broken,

then immediately saying:

“but you know i love you, right?”

and she would say yes

because she didn’t know love could be anything else.

she thought it was love when her dad never stopped talking about how disgusting she was at family dinner.

he said the same words over and over again:

filthy

disgusting

terrible

wrong

wrong. she was terrible and filthy and disgusting and so irrevocably and horribly wrong,

that when her dad asked:

“you know i’m just trying to keep you safe, right?

because i love you?”

she would say yes

because how could love be anything different?

she believed it was love when she cooked and cleaned and helped her siblings with all their homework,

and she wasn’t completely wrong.

but love was a dangerous thing.

so she shoved it down deep inside,

told herself she couldn’t feel it,

not yet.

she stopped believing people when they said it,

gave up on saying it back.

because when she asked herself what love was

she wasn’t so sure she could answer.

she was afraid of love when she finally felt its touch.

all she knew was that she was safer when no one said those words,

safer when love didn’t make an appearance at all.

but it came back

again

again

again

her school counselor

her sophomore english teacher

her adopted big sister

and it took some time,

but she wasn’t quite as afraid of love when it came.

and when she felt brave enough to ask herself what love was,

she still didn’t know for sure.

but she thought it was the scent of lavender and linen

that it was the warmest hugs

and her favorite safe place.

all her life,

she had learned that love was a dangerous thing,

something heavy,

something she had to carry.

but she had been learning it could be something else now:

something light

safe

warm

at the very least,

it was no longer something she had to carry.