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Tana F Bridgers Jun 2018
Dear 2020,
I want to die. This time I really mean it. I really do. Tears stream down my face.
   But...
I can't really think of anything to stop myself.
   What if you see Machaela? What if you hold hands? Hug?
At this rate, I'll never get out of here. I just want to die and starve. I'm so fat.
   Maybe...
What else can I conjure up to hide my feelings?
  But what if I am happy in the future!
What if I'm not?
sigh
Tana F Bridgers Jun 2018
Dear 2020,
Still at Old Vineyard. I'm supposed to be leaving on Tuesday. This is later because I still think of suicide every day. I'm still very anxious. I'm still starving myself.
   I partially want to go home to Machaela, but I know I won't be safe. And I'm really better here, so I guess I'll stay.
   Love,
              Hollin
oof
Tana F Bridgers Jun 2018
Dear 2020,
I want to die. I wish I could write that to you a thousand times. No one seems to take me seriously when I say that. I want to cut. I want to die. I'm so tired of dealing with all this, I'm so tired of my Dad, I'm not getting better, and they switched my meds. I can finally draw, but it's terrible. I wish I was dead. I'm so fat. And ugly. I have to starve. Maybe then I'll die. Probably not. I just want to go to the third dimension forever.

goodbye,
                 hollin
uuhhhh
Belle May 2018
time passes by
and i don't realize it
see
i must just dissociate each moment
they say it happens when there is something bad going on
it's a so called "escape"
each moment is bad
so i can believe that
because
i'm not so sick anymore and i'm envious of the sick girls
my therapist said i don't need a high level of care anymore
so i guess i've failed
****
****
****
**** i ******* wish i couldnt walk again
looking like an auschwitz survivor
and i'm jealous
of girls bruised knuckles and
caved in eyes
now i jiggle
i was once that way
can't i do it again?
again
again
again
again im in a position that my body makes me want to die
or look like i am atleast
how did i get this big?
come back, come back
i need that illness back or else i might not be able to go on
i need it.
come back.
Chloe May 2018
She is a monster in the back of my head.
Every bite of food fills me with dread.
“Don’t eat that, you’re already so fat.”
“0 calories a day will make your stomach flat.”
She comes to me in my dreams,
So sickly, so thin.
Her name is Ana.
She is the demon within.
She will pretend to be your friend
Just to get inside your head;
And she will hold on tight.
She will cover you in darkness.
She will mock you out of spite.
She does not forgive.
She does not forget.
Letting her in will be your biggest regret.
TRIGGER WARNING: ED/NUMBERS.
I’ve been struggling for the past few month and I haven’t talked to anyone about it because I’m afraid people will think I’m seeking attention.
I am not trying to glamorize eating disorders in any way. If you are also struggling, stay strong. You can beat this. ❤️
Hayley May 2018
I want to become art.
When the pit at the bottom of my stomach seems to grow
and all possibility for human interaction is fleeting
I dream of becoming the girl
That other girls wish to be
If only they wait long enough to raise a peach to their quivering lips
Weeping because they know their DNA
Will never be as perfect as my own
I want to become art I want my skeleton
Buldging boldly from my skin
To become some ones master piece
Their magnum opus
I want to be the Mona Lisa of the modern age
The bold brash beauty
I want to be the girl that smiles without it being forced
I want to be a gamer
I want the mirror to stop being agony
I want to be taller
I want to be smaller
I want to laugh quieter
I want my legs to work normally
I want to become art
I want to be plus sized
And I know so **** well it takes more
Than 21 days to break a habit
Because its been 48 and I'm still thinking of how much I ate
Last night
I felt pretty when I was hungry
Today I feel freaking beautiful because I
Am full
I am alive
I am me
I want to show the world I'm here
I'm big
And beautiful
I want to show
My starving sisters
That they need not starve
Anymore
I want to become art
A new form of art
A piece of art
That shows that you don't have
To be like that girl
Or that one
Or that one over there
You just need to be the most important thing of all
You
And that is the most beautiful thing of all.
A masterpiece
Stay strong
My starving sisters
Prompt for my daily poem task was to just free write and i figured my poems are all centered around things like eating disorder and they are all universally  negative and cynical so i thought i'd try and stay positive
Ana Sophia May 2018
there was a time she felt cold
and weak
and lonely
and empty
and numb.
and she truly believed that
by being thin
and looking like she wanted to,
she'd be happy.
but that didn't happen.
in fact,
she just faded away,
disappeared inside of her clothes
and of herself.

lost the sparkle of her eyes
and the colour of her lips
and cheeks.

was it worth it?
Darcy Lynn May 2018
Grabbing fat that isn’t there,
Dulling eyes
And thinning hair

Peeling skin and bones that ache
Drying mouth
And “bathroom breaks”

Waking up to stomach rumbles
Stagnant breath
And steps that tumble

Dreams of food and calories
Diet pills
And longer sleeves

Endless nights and skin that chills
Never eating
To feed what kills

Being skinny has the price
Of six feet down
And three feet wide
I wrote this when I was 12
Shannon May 2018
Fourteen never tasted you
But I still need you like a crutch
Like something to keep me afloat when I feel like
I'm drowning

You see, the pretty, skinny girls
The ones who are allowed to fall apart
Pieces of you they exhale
Leave a solemn marker on this saddened planet.

You see, pretty skinny girls
The ones who suit anorexia so **** well
Wear a pretty shade of starving
And cry themselves to sleep within stark hospital walls

You see, pretty skinny girls
The ones who don't take up any space
Praised for their alternative music and long socks because
Hey.
At least they're alive.

Do you see how different we are.
We are the freedom seekers who never get justice
We are the ones that got left behind
We are the ones who's diagnosis didnt fit
Simply because our numbers didnt
Into the category of deathly

I need you like a crutch
Because nothing I have
and nothing I am
Quite equates to their criteria of needing help.
No matter how quietly i whisper to you under bedsheets
Or scream it out to my father, those three words
That are already hard enough to ******* admit
no
no.
They are still.
Still.
Not enough for you.

I need help.

Fourteen learned to roll cigarettes when she was seven
But made an oath to herself of never ever
but now she needs a salvation

It's like I've been fighting the ocean for long enough
Finally decided c i cant fight alone anymore
Yet the lifeguards only saved the one who was visible in the sea
Oblivious to the fact fourteen was on the brink
Of drowning in her own tears.

Fourteen looks up to the sky and counts the stars
Like marlboro lights she counts the flamed atmosphere
Wondering how life could get worse than this.
And she waits for something to come
something to save her
A helping hand or a speeding car
Lying in the middle of the road often carried that risk.


She's in love with him and its a ******* tragedy
She doesnt know if shes too much for him or not enough
She's being abused and its a ******* tragedy
She doesnt know if the bruises shes acquiring are just in her head
She's losing touch with her friends and its a ******* tragedy
She knows they arent paying attention.

So what more can she do
But dream of feeding herself to the ocean
A current in place of a current affair and
A slow and fulfulling peace.

Fourteen stares at the sky with the
soft ripples of sand beneath her feet
counts the stars like marlboro lights
takes a breath, and gives herself  
One
more
chance
Seventeen looks back to what she wrote when she was fourteen, fourteen,
young and sweet and in pain and fourteen never saw what could happen with two years and some trust in herself and some ******* faith. Fourteen you won some hard battles. Fourteen youre still here. Fourteen you make me proud every ******* day. Fourteen, meet seventeen. Fourteen I'm proud of you. Fourteen I love you. If nobody else can say it, know that i do.  I do. Fourteen you picked yourself up. Fourteen, you are the reason seventeen doesnt need to lean on anyone, not at the end of the day. Fourteen, you're the reason seventeen is still here. Fourteen, im sorry. Fourteen, im still sorry. Fourteen, we're on our way to fix these cracks, the ones a little to big for our small hands. Fourteen, we will achieve our own justice. Fourteen, you no longer dream of feeding yourself to the supreme entity. Fourteen you no longer think of your funeral as a memory. Fourteen, you've lost people but **** some of them you're better off without. Seventeen wants you to know that.
Fourteen you dont need to be a size 6 to be validated.
You must validate yourself to be validated.


Fourteen, we made it.
Fourteen, you did it.
Fourteen, im so thankful that you persisted.
Belle May 2018
“Which one you got?”
They inquire as if it’s something you receive.
“Whats it like?”
When you got that toy as a child, remember how invigorating it was?
“Well do you like it?”
Of course I like it. Or atleast at one point I did. Now it’s just there and I’m bored of it.
“Well why?”
Every toy becomes a burden at one point.
“So what do you do with it now?”
I try to put it away and hide it, because I hate when guests come over and ask me about it.
“But weren’t you so excited about it at one point?”
Yeah, but times change.
“So which one you got?”
They ask over and over again.
Finally I respond to the question. “Anorexia.”
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