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elizabeth May 2018
blood running down
my unshaven legs
disgusting and hairy
deserving of
gashes and scars and pain
deserving of hatred
deserving of starvation
those numbers 115
dont just magically
appear on the scale
my attempt at cutting
away the fat,
ugliness failed
now im left
watching the wine
pour out of my skin
down the drain
may 5, 2018
elizabeth Feb 2018
walls built up high
they're supposed to protect
against the ocean of my mind
i let you in
let you see my thoughts
and you overwhelmed me
the waves started crashing
i started slipping under
drowning
February 14, 2018.
  Dec 2017 elizabeth
Aspen S
bone chilling moments
aren't what they seem to be.

my body resembles a corpse,
freezing to the tips of my toes,
with an ice cold heart
beating just enough to keep me alive.

i'm a dead girl walking,
littered in lanugo and
blue bruised, broken ribs,
and paper thin skin
caving in on itself
as if collapsing is inevitable.

bile inhabits my stomach,
yet hunger will always be
the second most important anyway.

pink, swollen cheeks are
replaced by hollow caverns
not even bears want to enter.

"i am an iceberg drifting to
the edge of the map,"
a girl who wants to be real-
but can't.

the blizzard winds in my head
have become too heavy to thaw out
and i can slowly feel my carcass of a body
cast away with the rest of my past.

i am gone.
  
                                    i am free.
i have struggled with an eating disorder for God only knows how long. it's been a challenge recently because i feel the need to restrict everything. i hate it so much yet at the same time it feels good to be in control for once. this poem is for those out there that have/had an eating disorder. you are so much stronger than your mental illness. you will get through this.

xoxo

(reference to "Wintergirls," by Laurie Halse Anderson)
  Dec 2017 elizabeth
Bunny
Hi. I'm depressed.
No, that doesn't mean I wear black makeup. I don't wear contrasting black eyeliner upon white foundation. I've already contrasted myself enough from the rest of society.
Hi. I'm depressed.
No, that doesn't mean I cut my wrists with razor sharp blades. I don't create lines because that lets people scan my red barcode, only further proving that they own me.
Hi. I'm depressed.
No, that does not mean I want to guzzle all the bleach I can. I don't want to corrode my physical insides as much as others have corroded my spiritual insides.
Hi. I'm depressed.
No that doesn't mean I want to hang myself from a ceiling fan. That would only break my neck, only adding to the number of wounds from the countless times people have beaten me down with their words.
Hi. I'm depressed.
No, that does not mean in a life or death situation, I will just lay down and accept my inevitable demise.
Hi. I'm depressed.
No, that doesn't mean I want to die. That means I'm not afraid of death.
I feel like my first poem should be a formal "Hello."
  Dec 2017 elizabeth
Bunny
Why did this happen?

This wasn't supposed to happen

Does God hate me?

What reason did He have for making me like this?

"It's a blessing."
Those were the only words I've heard.
Are they true, though?
Yes.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.
I've seen them insulting me, I'm glad I didnt hear it.
You can
Point and
Laugh
All
You
Want
But your
Putrid words will never
Pierce my ears
Because I'm
Deaf
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