Can’t feel anything
They drug me so I don’t cut
So I don’t **** myself
Won’t let me drink
Can’t get high
Can’t even **** myself
I ate... and ate...
Til my stomach hurt
Forcing it down
Feel the carbs increase my heart rate
Tiny bursts of mild pleasure
Turning into gluttonous lethargy
I guess I felt something
My skin is splitting at the seams like a poorly made children’s sweater,
being worn by a planet so big
that it becomes its own universe
This might be it, and maybe that’s fine
I'm a black belt binge eater
Undefeated diet cheater
In the fridge night and day
Doing what my tastebuds say
Racking the calories up like a boss
Teeth so busy got no time to floss
Fridge light on, fridge light off
Attracted like a dancing moth
Saline streams ran down my cheeks and found it's way to my lips
Glitter and shine like sequins as they drip down the terrain,
Seeping into the cracks in a desperate attempt to drink the life I've given up
I'm older now but nothing has changed
My wine still tastes like bitter childhood and my cigarettes smelled like my father
(Or maybe my father smelt like cigarettes, I couldn't tell)
A bag of anger packaged in Mcdonald's chicken nuggets sat on my work desk like a trophy to behold
I was only 6 when the first crack in my heart ran through
My mother told me that maybe copious amounts of cheesy fries and roasted chicken would somehow motivate my body to fill it up
I needed reassurance that would coat it in resin
Give it another layer of protection
But she gave me a bag of hard candy so I could sculpt around it
My body shook and my voice cracked as my father left my the family for the 3rd time and I knew my trust was gone forever
But that's fine because 7-Eleven is down the streets
And they have a promo for chocolate-vanilla ice cream
All I needed was a cone to catch the tears as I swallowed it down like melted sugar syrup
I tell myself that adding chocolate chips into my depression would not make it taste sweeter
But when I took a bite out of that cookie, I could barely tell I've been crying
And a few mugs of mocha drowned the thought deep into my mind
I'm older now
But my taste buds still have me ******* on a chain
And it feels like the only way to escape
Is to jump down the abyss
Out of all my crutches, stress eating is the "healthiest" but it destroys me eight times faster in the long run because then I'll worry about gaining weight. Ahhh, tough.
My body and mind are at war
two beings occupying the same skin
the diverged desire firing bullets into the heart
creating a cacophony of chaos within me
******* the jar of peanut butter
hidden by the blanket of dark sky
hugging the fridge like a newborn
caressing the chocolate bar wrapper
crying in the shower
pinching my skin until bright pink, hot
trying to resurrect myself into someone more holy
trying to starve
out the monster within
only to find myself back on the bathroom tile singing gospel songs into the toilet bowl.
a cyclical strom
that will not stop raging
like a perverted lover
dragging you back home.
"Sweetheart, You lose so much weight"
"I'm fine mom, I've already ate"
Sedative words that can't extricate
Food, Is what I begun to hate.
Thin, Thin, Very Thin
Left with bones and waxen skin.
I'm famished but anxious of the kilos
Furtively eating with my eyes, Day by day this is how it goes.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, can't you see?
What you show is demising me.
Every calorie is a conflagration
Stepping into the scale a redundant vexation.
Stand upon my reflection again
A fat *** is what I see, vociferating of my brain
makes me regurgitate in so much pain.
Drops of anesthetic mainlining my soul
numbers in the scale are reigning without control.
Flesh into ebbing, turning acrimony into cuts
throwing meals, when everyone shuts
All is left is my aweary bones
Still it whispers
"Not thin enough"
It wasn't even good anymore
It was just a
To fill the empty
A glue that I mistakingly
hold all of my
This pain inside of me is
Burning with endless
This is what I feel
Everything is an
Every positive thought
through my brain
This has been my struggle
All day long,
Fighting and slaying and eventually saying
"I give! I give!"
By nightfall I am
Dreading the continuous
of tomorrow, the next day, the next, the next....
It's an endless merry-go-round of
The same battle
How to escape?
The therapist told me (21 years ago)
She saw women's lives
over the endless years they've been
And I thought mine was just a phase.....
— The End —