Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2018
I hope my body forgives me
For what I’ve put it through
I hope one day I see
The truths I heard from you

I promise I will try
Not to starve myself as often
But there will be hiccups and lies
As I chew and chew to soften

The food will make me sick
Though I may not mean physical
But still they call me “thick”
Thin is paradisiacal

I’m sorry some days I can’t keep down my food
Or I can’t even look at the label on that junk
I know it would taste good
But it would just add to me another flabby chunk

The number doesn’t matter
It’s arbitrary really
I’m stuck like the mad hatter
And the mirror floats about freely

Yes I’m scared to death
But the death is so enticing
I push and pull each breath
But the sharp oxygen is slicing

Tired and alone
I wander aimlessly
With no place to call home
I can’t say I do so blamelessly

It’s my fault I’m so messed up
But I want that skin and bones
I rinse my mouth with a cup
After throwing up dark tones

I hope my body forgives me
For hurting it so greatly
It’s not who I want to be
But I’ve gotten much worse lately
Eleanor Sinclair
Written by
Eleanor Sinclair  19/F/The Enterprise
(19/F/The Enterprise)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems