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3am
Frances Adams Sep 2014
3am
3am.
She’s woken up thinking of that wonderful delusion her mind had just created.
Where everything was back to normal,
Back to before you broke her.
You...broke her.
Tears begin streaming down her cheek,
And you’re the reason why.
The reason why she dreams the most wonderful dreams and gets up in the morning feeling like a brick was thrown at her face.
The reason why she takes so many photos to remember so many moments in hopes that maybe she’ll forget the ones spent with you.
You’re the reason why she can’t go into that one room or that one park without breaking down.
Why she’s so weak that nothing can help her anymore.
Because instead of building her up, you tore her down.
Down so low, where cigarettes and beer are happiness.
You should’ve been there for her.
You should’ve kept your promise of love and held her while she cried all those tears.
Because maybe then she wouldn’t have so many.
Frances Adams Sep 2014
I haven’t thought of you in so long.
You disappeared from the words that escape the ink I splattered on my pages.
It felt like a millennium had passed when I finally moved on,
And when my thoughts were rid of you.
Yet it only took 2 seconds for my past with you to take hold of my mind again.
You were everything to me before.
One memory appeared in my mind,
Then another.
Then the sinking feeling in my stomach hit.
Finally, tears began streaming down my pale, corpse like cheeks.
It feels like my envisionment of you is so real,
And you’re so close that I can almost touch you.
The sensation of my heart being squeezed; drained of blood, is too much to handle.
For I thought i’d never repeat this process of withdrawal from love.
But yet again,
I have been deceived.
No matter how much time passes,
Even when I think I’ve moved on from you,
And when your face hasn’t appeared in my mind or your voice in my ears,
I still haven’t.
And that reality,
Will never change.
Frances Adams Aug 2014
She drowns her non existent sorrows in you.
Non existent,
For she has no real sorrows.
Her world is perfect,
Yet utterly flawed.
She’s not sad, just alone.
And loneliness is a funny thing.
It brings an onset of feelings similar to grief.
But these are numb sensations,
Ones not real,
Like you.
Everything she consists of, melts when you’re around.
She takes the shape of something to fit you.
She doesn’t let herself be anything other than your life-size barbie doll.
Her original copy drowns in your presence.
Sinking into the deep hole where your heart once was.
She was head over heels for you,
And using your theatrical talents, you fooled her into thinking that those feelings were mutual.
But when she wasn’t enough,
She was left behind, once again surrounded by loneliness.
Unable to rediscover herself,
Because in the midst of unknowingly losing you, she lost herself too.
Frances Adams Jul 2014
I can’t do this any longer.
They all toss my heart around like a football because its fun to watch the girl tear apart.
You don’t realize it, but it hurts me.
The way you flirted with my best friend right in front of me hurt,
The way you stared into my eyes and treated me so “nicely" was painful.
That’s it though, you simply haven’t done anything wrong.
You’re so perfect yet I'm still scared to feel.
Tonight was the night that I’d decide my feelings for you.
And I have, I fell for you so hard and this breathtaking, captivating, heart aching  feeling was so recognizable.
It was the same way I felt when I fell all those times before.
My body knows this as a warning sign,
Stopping me from continuing.
I am damaged from the past, and frightened by the future.
I’m stuck in this mindset, unable to escape.
I am defective,
Not worthy of anyone.
I was fearful of falling for you, and with good reason.
But now I've fallen for your quirky smile, your brown eyes, and your playful flirting.
I’ve put myself on the line and you've changed you’re mind.
You’re playing games that I don’t know the rules to.
You could so easily pull away from me at any second.
Leaving, and if that’s the case then I’ll bury my feelings so deep down and pretend as if they never existed.
But they’ll still be stuck inside,
Slicing up my body.
Causing unbearable pain which I’ll hide just one more time with a cute little smile.
And like every single time,
I’ll act as if I never felt anything.
But once I’m alone, I will breakdown, falling apart piece by piece.
Because I have finally fallen for you, and as I predicted,
I am breaking because of it.
Frances Adams Sep 2014
I’m noticing you.
Your eyes are weighed down,
And your smile is fading away.
You’re throwing your life into an empty bottle.
The more you struggle,
The harder it is for you to wake up every morning to what seems like another wasted day.
As if the sun doesn’t touch your skin anymore,
Your pigment is disappearing along with your eagerness to live.
You have a wound from an arrow,
That has yet to close over.
But listen to these words darling,
Continue your life but not the way it is.
Dedicate to one thing that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter,
That makes your mind float away into the clouds,
And that makes your smile appear again.
Frances Adams Jul 2014
I’ll lay here and write another pointless poem about you.
Another meaningless line expressing the pain you caused.
Why must you show up in each word I put down?
I try to be rid of your reckless ways but never have you left.
I write about how I miss you, but what exactly am i missing?
Reality check.
I don’t miss you. I miss what I thought you were.
I miss your looks and the person you portrayed in my life like a part in a movie.
A movie that has no happy ending.
Every splatter of ink that ends up on this paper has you in it.
Every word is one you’ve used to sweet talk me;
To fool me into submission.
I gave you my heart and now I want it back,
I wish to be capable of loving again.
But until I can feel it beating inside of my chest,
My words will continue being slaves to you.
Frances Adams Jul 2014
She steps onto that same scale everyday.
And everyday, no matter what the number,
It always reads "Eat Less”.
And so she does.
All she wants is a flat stomach, small thighs, and to be skinny enough that she’s classified as bony.
Is that too much to ask?
She gives herself a gold star every time she goes 12 hours without food.
Creating the idea that she is doing something good.
She collected so many stars that a full stomach was something never felt.
Counting every calorie her body would intake.
Working out for hours just because she broke down and ate one cookie yesterday.
She has a constant reminder in the back of her head to **** in her stomach.
But now it does it all on it’s own,
Like an empty black hole.
She is a slave to hunger,
But he eventually goes unnoticed.
She got her flat stomach and small thighs yet still cannot stop.
She grows weaker and weaker everyday.
As her life begins to slip through her fingers,
She’ll die perfect.
Looking like a stick.
Frances Adams Jul 2014
I’m afraid I’ll lose him completely,
Even though I already have.
Another day passes,
Another memory of us disappears.
Leaving an empty hole in me, longing to be filled.
We both made mistakes, but I still was never good enough for his god-like complex.
As I fell for him like no other, we became two negative magnets repulsing.
I fought so hard to have my chance with him but when I looked over,
He hadn’t even lifted a finger to fight for me and had moved on.
He gave up so fast that it feels like his spectacularly imbecilic mind was made up the moment I met him.
And that I was just another girl he thought he had figured out and was an easy ****.
But I wasn’t.
I stood my ground and didn’t give up my body to him and because of that he threw away any ounce of feelings for me and left.
One minute my small bony hand was wrapped in his,
Then within a blink of his deep brown eyes,
My hand slipped out of his and we shared our last kiss goodbye.
He looked me in the eyes after getting lost in them for a moment and said in a soft, regretful voice;
I don’t want to leave you.
That’s when I knew he had chosen her.
That’s when I knew I lost him.
And that no matter how much love we had for each other and how committed we were,
Even a friendship would be impossible because hearing him talk about her,
Or seeing him so happy with someone other than me,
Would hurt too much.
And I’d never be able to recover.
Frances Adams Jul 2014
I haven’t heard from you for a while.
Seems like our relationship has just disappeared into thin air,
And you don’t even care.
We had a blooming friendship that was intertwined with love,
But like a needle taken to a balloon, our little bubble of joy bursted as reality barged in and tore us apart.
It would have never worked between us anyways.
I didn’t know what I wanted, but all I needed was a friend.
You wanted more, or nothing.
I barely knew you yet I lay here staring at the ceiling thinking of your hands.
You pop into my mind at the most inconvenient times,
And leave me motionless.
When I think of you its like time stops and the only things I can feel are the deep crater in my heart that you filled for a moment and my missing you.
I now lack our long conversations and your early morning texts,
Would it be that bad if those were to exist once more?
I fell for you but not in love.
I fell into the wall of friendship, and it supported me.
You didn’t go crumbling down when I crashed into you.
I valued that but no matter what my feelings, you still wanted more.
Everyone wanted me to have more for you.
I can’t give you anymore.
I have been drained of love.
I am barren and empty.
There will be no more love for me to give as long as my feelings are knotted up like this.
I thought I had you to help me detangle my emotions and figure out how to feel okay again,
But you’ve left me like all the others.
You left that empty crater and the tangled ball of feelings for me to sort out on my own, even though I can’t.
I’ve gone down this road one too many times.
I’m finished with finding someone to help and to compensate for the one I loved.
I give up.
And so I’ll have to find my lost strength and fix myself alone.
But I don’t know if that is even possible,
Because what if I like being broken?
Frances Adams Jul 2014
I’ve always been asked why I adore the rain so much,
Here is my explanation.
I love the rain because it’s beautiful,
Just like my older sister’s smile.
I love the rain because sometimes it comes wrapped in a storm,
A storm with loud rumbling thunder,
And with lightning striking an electric current that jolts through my body,
Waking me up from the deep sleep caused by my unexciting routined life.
I do the same thing everyday, and each repeated action pushes me a little farther into this hole of depression.
That was until you came into my life,
You were my lightning.
But also my storm;
Ripping through my life and drowning me in sorrow.
I love the rain because it hides my tears,
They camouflage into it and for once it feels like I’ve stopped crying.
I love the rain because I can go outside and be alone.
The streets go from crowded and loud,
To lonely and quiet.
With the most prominent sound being the tiptoe of rain against the my old yellow rain boots.
I love the rain because it’s smell fills my lungs and I feel as if I can finally breathe. Because the thunder jumpstarts my otherwise sedated heart.
I love the rain because it brings me back to life,
And alters my numbed brain,
Making me feel again.
Procella is the latin word for storm, I hope you enjoy this poem :)
Frances Adams Sep 2014
I locked you away, and forgot everything.
Or so I thought.
But truthfully, it’s impossible to forget you.
You contributed so much to who I am today.
You’re the reason I fell, but also the one who helped me get back up.
I can’t forget all the moments we shared,
And how I have never felt as happy as I was with you.
I miss you…
Us.
I’m not supposed to but I can’t help it.
Everyone tells me to forget,
But what if you’re someone to remember?
I wonder if you ever think of me.
If you ever run your fingers through her hair and imagine its mine.
If you listen to that band I love and remember me.
If you see my contact name and almost call me out of habit.
Because we did have something, something magnificent.
Something so unique that I fear I’ll never have again.
And is that really worth forgetting?
Why should I forget the pain you caused if it helped me grow?
Why should I forget you pushing me down if it made me learn how to get back up on my own?
I’m finished with letting go of my memories,
I am angry and as I sit here trembling,
All I want is to remember.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t.
Because somewhere along the way after being told to countless times,
I forgot.
Frances Adams Jul 2014
It felt good at first
The way he picked me up, swung me around and kissed me goodbye.
His hands almost froze off but he didn’t care because they were holding mine.
He would always watch me instead of the movie
He made me feel unbreakable and happy
Things I hadn’t felt in ages

I counted 4 times
4 times he repeated “I like you”
Making sure I knew just how fond he had grown of me
I fell for him so hard that getting back up seemed impossible.
But it was those endless moments we spent staring into each others eyes
and the way he’d run his fingers through my hair,
That felt good at first.

It all came crashing down so fast
Suddenly his lips weren’t made for mine anymore
He chose impulse over devotion
Sticking with what he knows rather than discovering something new
Leaving me behind to pick up the pieces of my broken heart scattered on the bedroom floor.
He played me all along
He knowingly put me through hell and got off on it
Yet I still sit here missing him, missing the person that I thought he was.
I want him to stay up all night to watch the sunrise with me again
I want to get lost in his eyes just one more time.
I want him to look at me the way he did, like I was the only girl in the world and he’d never leave my side.
All I want
Is for him to love me.
But he loves her.

Seeing him everyday reminded me of it all.
Those split seconds I lock eyes with him, created a tornado of memories in my mind.
Good and bad
Making my knees weak and my heart sink
Breakdown after breakdown,
Thinking it’d never end.
But now he's just a blurred figure in the halls,  
A memory locked away in the back of my mind never to be opened again.
There's a memory in every line...
Frances Adams Oct 2014
As I look into this mirror, words begin rushing through my mind.
I think to myself;
How could anyone ever love her?
How could they look at that repulsive body and be attracted to it?
For she is not beautiful.
She has asymmetrical features,
A sagging face that reveals her sadness and exhaustion,
And scars hidden by meaningless bracelets and her old red sweater.
How could someone love her, having known how she treats herself?
How could they handle the baggage she carries everywhere on her shoulder?
Her nervous habits, her inability to handle stress and her tendency to cover up her problems that show through her face with makeup are only the beginning.
How could he have loved her?
How could he have been attracted to her boney hips and large legs?
Did he know how she treated her body?
Anyone could’ve seen it.
I can't understand how he loved her crooked smile,
Her loud obnoxious laugh.,
Her obsession with horses,
Or her large hands and feet.
Did he ever really love her?
Because she doesn’t love herself, so how could anyone else?

— The End —