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M Apr 2019
I hover over fractured water
the porcelain compels me to lean closer

"I am not lovable"
always anxious Mar 2019
Bony parts bruise faster.
I think to myself.
I look down at my arms. They are tinted yellow from the fading bruises.

Fatty parts bruise harder.
I think to myself.
I look down at my thighs, they have black spots scattered over them.

I sigh and touch my collarbones protruding from my body.
I stack the coins. I can fit 17 on each collarbone.

I look in the mirror and I know I am looking at a hollowed out skeleton, but all I see is me .. just as I've always looked, grey, boring, ordinary...
Johnny Noiπ Mar 2019
An Anorexic with a spray tan
is essentially a stick-figure...
arin Feb 2019
the numbers are all that matter
i keep track of them
whenever they go up
and every time they

d
r
o
p

d
o
w
n

closer to beauty
closer to perfection
closer to zero
NoPoe Feb 2019
My life, is no longer my life
My skin, is no longer my skin
My mind and body isn't mine either
It is yours Mia
I have surrendered myself to you
I am tired of fighting you
I no longer have the energy
For you have stolen that too
I stand on both my knees
Asking for your forgiveness
Purge me of my guilt
Allow my bone to be sharp as knives
Stomach flat as paper
Let my collerbones allow me to fly
Fly far far away
Kealey Jan 2019
Bones,
Delicate, slender, beautiful.
Cheek bones,
That encase a beautiful face,
A glowing smile highlights those bones,
With a tint of pink.
Collar bones,
Which lead to big beautiful *******,
That are ****, and hold a head up high.
Ribs,
**** little bones, peering right through the skin
Showcasing every small gasp,
Every small breath.
Hip bones,
A product of a flat stomach,
Sharp and beautiful,
Something he can grab tenderly.
Knobby knees,
That have a gap between them,
A gap for someone to fit in.
And long spindly fingers,
Cold to the touch.
Bones,
I want to see them,
I want to touch them,
Caress them with a tenderness never shown to me,
Then perhaps, when I can touch the fragility of my bones, under my skin
Will I be happy with my body, with myself
No longer will I be the girl needing to lose weight,
I will be beautiful, wanted, cared about
Perhaps, even people will see how fragile I truly am,
Perhaps someone will look after me, finally.
Anne Dec 2018
I thought I was smart enough to know that five m&m’s isn’t a meal
So I’m getting fat again yet I still have bulimic tendencies!! Awesome!!
Jazlynne Rose Nov 2018
She
Her body is merely an obstacle
A barrier between happiness and reality
She challenges herself to get closer -
and closer
To the bones that hold her together
Reduced to her ivory frame until her foundation becomes unreliable
Unworthy of the beauty she deserves
She is golden, and her hair is glass
Nothing more than an ornament to be adored
She is hungry for nothing but perfection
To be a thread; bones and beauty twisted into one
Filling her insides with the water she will end in
Finished, she is nothing more than what she has become
Not full or whole
In pieces, taped together after tearing herself apart
"Everyone wants to be a little anorexic" she says

"You know, like, in a glamorous way, like fashion friendly anorexic"

I bite my cheek and nod, pretend to agree

All I can think of is waking up to stars dancing on the ceiling

Pale skin with bruises of unknown origins

And battered feet on and off the scale

Almonds in Ziploc baggies

Bite marks on fingers

Hair down the drain

Measuring crunches by the marks they leave on your spine

And battered feet on and off the scale

Enough water to turn organs into boats

Eating an apple with a fork and knife

Desperate hands grasping for ribs

And battered feet on and off the scale

Standing and the world going dark

Coughing around shots of apple cider vinegar

Carrying an emergency rice cake for weak spells

And battered feet on and off the scale

Enough green tea to drown organs

Sugar free gum to mask the smell of decaying organs

Whatever nail polish covers yellow and purple

And battered feet on and off the scale

How many calories are in toothpaste

Thinspo blogs

Pillows squeezed between thighs

And battered feet on and off the scale

Is today the day my heart gives out

Waking every day in a new body

Fingers clasped around wrists

And battered feet on and off the scale

Notebooks filled with numbers

Purple crescents under eyes

Fingers clasped around forearms

And battered feet on and off the scale

Elbows knocking into hipbones

Being scared of your own reflection

Lies to get out of dinner

And battered feet on and off the scale

The stench of *****

Oxygen that tastes of Splenda

Fingers clasped around biceps

And bleeding feet on and off the scale

 

If this is your idea of glamour

Then you can have it
Trigger Warning
ffc1 Nov 2018
So it comes to me
Shrinking me,
Bringing me down
Diluting my thoughts
Dimming my mind

It lurks beneath the boards
Knows where I am, knows how I live
Comes to maim, stays to ****
So it lurks
So it kills

It comes, sees my pain
Knows where to strike to scar
It lives in all places, possesses all people
So it comes
So it haunts

Never it leaves, forever within
Reigns in isolation
Controls when alone
Here it comes
Here it stays
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