🤮🚽🪥🍟
I started to taste my meals twice
In summer heat that felt like ice
By seventh grade I knew the game
To shrink in silence chase thin frame
I didn’t stop because I healed
Found some strength, or wounds reveled
I stopped because I googled it,
The acid ruins your teeth and lips
And god forbid I rot my smile
I want to starve, but stay worthwhile
It’s shallow sure. But that was it
My vanity outshone my grit
Now every meal still tastes like shame
I chew I smile I play the game
I don’t throw up but still feel sick
Still count and cut and do the trick
I wish I didn’t think this way
Didn’t flinch at food or waste my day
Comparing by arms and legs and skin
Still hoping small means I might win
I wish my body felt like mine
Not something wrong I need to fine
Tune into something sharp and sweet
Not soft, not loud, not on repeat
But I am the girl who knew too much
Who smiled and starved and hid the crush
Of wanting less and hating more
And being praised for keeping score
I stopped I did but not to heal
Just kept what’s pretty, lost what’s real
And still I sit, still I ache
Afraid that eating, was the original mistake
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 12:30 AM UTC
🤮🚽🪥🍟
I started to taste my meals twice
In summer heat that felt like ice
By seventh grade I knew the game
To shrink in silence chase thin frame
I didn’t stop because I healed
Found some strength, or wounds reveled
I stopped because I googled it,
The acid ruins your teeth and lips
And god forbid I rot my smile
I want to starve, but stay worthwhile
It’s shallow sure. But that was it
My vanity outshone my grit
Now every meal still tastes like shame
I chew I smile I play the game
I don’t throw up but still feel sick
Still count and cut and do the trick
I wish I didn’t think this way
Didn’t flinch at food or waste my day
Comparing by arms and legs and skin
Still hoping small means I might win
I wish my body felt like mine
Not something wrong I need to fine
Tune into something sharp and sweet
Not soft, not loud, not on repeat
But I am the girl who knew too much
Who smiled and starved and hid the crush
Of wanting less and hating more
And being praised for keeping score
I stopped I did but not to heal
Just kept what’s pretty, lost what’s real
And still I sit, still I ache
Afraid that eating, was the original mistake
This poem was both the hardest and easiest one to write. Eating disorders **** and you can stop, but they never actually go away.
