Home » Poems » Best » Ada Monroe » Best Ada Monroe Poems

Best Poems Written by Ada Monroe

Below are the all-time best Ada Monroe poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Ada Monroe Poem

What Doesn't Kill You

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,  

And perhaps, if I go looking,  

In there, I can find some truth.  

 

But what they never tell you is that 

What doesn’t kill you makes you aware. 

It makes you bitter,  

it makes you scared. 

 

What doesn’t kill you leaves you in shambles, 

Knuckles bloody and your face blue.  

The time it takes to gain the strength  

Is the time it takes for it to destroy you. 

 

Neither are easy, my friend— 

Neither are fair.  

 

It teaches you and wrecks you all the same.  

 

What doesn’t kill you leaves you wondering,  

How did I end up in such a horrid place? 

 

And silence is the only thing that follows; 

The pounding of your heart beneath flesh and bones. 

 

And in the rhythmic beat, you can hear it being said 

Over and over again, like it’s all in your head:  

 

What doesn’t kill you makes you aware, 

What doesn’t kill you makes you bitter, 

What doesn’t kill you makes scared, 

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Details | Ada Monroe Poem

Dear Seventeen

The black pen with black ink is running out,  

The paper on the desk is clean but creased. 

It must hurt to have been crumpled up and straightened out time after time again, 

Only to be used by someone else. 

 

One year, and I am an entirely new person. 

My tears have left permanent stains. 

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, 

But what if I feel too weak to pick up the pen? 

 

The thoughts swarm in my head, 

They are buzzing, 

Too many tangled lines,  

I can’t make straight of the messy strands. 

One question is determined to mute the noise, 

It reigns in my head: 

How can I write? How can I write? 

 

Time has buried me alive, 

Yet, somehow, I survive. 

No one understands; they try but they can’t. 

I crave the sound of an apology, 

As if I will ever get the satisfaction of hearing one. 

The hard truth is,  

They don’t care to and I know that I can’t make them. 

 

Words can’t be unsaid; wounds take time to heal. 

But despite their cruelty, 

The earth keeps spinning, and I keep going. 

 

I can smooth the crumpled piece of paper but I can’t erase the pain, 

I can shake the pen and plead for one more droplet of ink, 

But maybe it has already given me its best. 

 

The black ink is spotty as I guide the pen across the page, 

My handwriting not neat quite enough. 

 
Dear Seventeen. 

You ask yourself how you can write,  

when you feel that words aren’t enough. 

Maybe you can’t. 

You ask yourself how you can make them understand, 

 giving them chance after chance. 

Maybe you can’t. 

You ask yourself how you can make them feel sorry 

for the way that they destroyed you. 

Maybe you can’t. 

But when you’re wondering if you can survive it— all of it— 

Trust me, you can.

Details | Ada Monroe Poem

The Sky

I fall in love with the sky time after time again. 

Perhaps that is how I learned to love so hard, 

To love so much, 

And never expect anything in return. 

I fell in love first with something ever changing; 

Nothing can disappoint me after that.

Details | Ada Monroe Poem

Fate

How am I supposed to deal with this feeling I was dealt with? 

Weighed down by the stone tied around my ankles, 

My feet drag with every step that I take. 

Every inch forward is heavy,  

Crawling through trenches of pain. 

 

The pit in my stomach is only digging itself deeper, 

My face is stained black from mascara dripping down my cheeks. 

Curled into a ball on the carpet of my bedroom floor, 

Trying to breathe in between sobs. 

One moment I am fine, 

The next I am unrecognizable.  

I didn’t know I could feel myself dissolve away  

as my body indents the cold hard ground. 

 

It hurts and I am numb, 

I am simply a creature of habit, 

Breaking down only when I am stung. 

 

I lay there in the midst of the moonlight’s midnight glow, 

My thoughts echoing, the voices ringing. 

I lay there wide awake into ungodly hours of the night. 

 

This isn’t how it was supposed to go, 

This is not who I was supposed to be.  

I cannot shake this feeling away, 

That I am a disappointment. 

No one can be proud of me— 

No one should be. 

I cannot expect anyone to be pleased, 

Why should I? 

 

I have let everyone down, 

And that is suffocating me. 

 

Praying someone will come save me,  

Out of fear that I will perish with my face blue and my bones bruised— 

Resting in this pain that I fear is my fate.