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Izzy Aghahowa Nov 12
maybe the words i said
couldn't contain themselves
into their strict meanings
and suddenly
i revealed my headspace

Suddenly you are a part of it
my dark twisted struggle for
a body removed
with a body that won't
will not
move from its concrete place

it's a different kind of silence
one only few learn about
Skin
Fingernails, moonlight, low-light
What’s the beast in the mirror I see?
It stares at me, it’s features moaning a sad soliloquy
I find it’s eyes, green, green, the colour of envy
Envy. Envy.
I find myself stretching skin.
Skin, it’s anthropomorphism deeply disturbs me
Why can’t I take it off
Peel it off, rip it off, burn it off, cut it off
Snip, snip
The more I stare the more it crumbles, it crumbles
I paint it’s mask with lacquer but the same pair of green eyes stare at me
What is that, who is that beast
The low-light consoles me but still I see it for what is
Me
when the body dysmorphia hits u ****
Becca Lansman Jul 29
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

One--
******* the jar of peanut butter
hidden by the blanket of dark sky
hugging the fridge like a newborn
caressing the chocolate bar wrapper

Two--
crouched over
crying in the shower
pinching my skin until bright pink, hot
with anger

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
always, somehow
dragging you back home.
Geanna Jun 26
Do you know it feels to look
in the mirror and be
disgusted with what you see?
To always think you're a fat pig

Do you know how it feels to starve?
To feel your body eat itself
To hear your stomach
beg you for food

Do you know how it feels to
constantly work out?
To continue even if you're tired
and start crying

Do you know how it feels to force
yourself to *****?
To re-taste every meal and
have it all come rushing back out
To clean your ***** off of the toilet

If not, then congrats
You don't have Body Dysmorphia, Anorexia nor Bulimia

If so, then i'm truly sorry
just know that you're not alone
Things will eventually get better, I promise
~ G.P.O
I made this a bit over a year ago. I added the very last part
Shae Sep 2017
Petals start to fall.
So do I.
This flower represents
my body.
It's wilting, withering
away.
So is my rib cage.
"You need to eat."
Their concerned but how can you be so concerned,
when your not even burned?
My thoughts are scratching my mind.
And patching over time.
Why can't I eat ?
I ask my mind that a lot.

I'm dying
wilting , rotting , and crumbling
but no one hears me fall.
Melody Martin Mar 2017
War
This body and I, we don't get along.
I look back at old pictures, and remember how I felt.
Body turned, chin down, stomach in.
Hoping, in those brief moments between the flash and capture,
that I would be frozen in time as a smaller version of myself.
Gabriel K Oct 2015
sometimes body dysmorphia's just looking in the mirror
KM Ramsey Jun 2015
where am i?
how am I to write when
I am no different from
those gaseous ephemeral words
who lie prostrate upon
the pages of my dictionary
carved plainly into
those battlefields strewn across
the wartorn country
my heart the despotic dictator
whose primal drumming
carries no tune
and no rhythm
and throws of explosions
grenades that
black out the world for
a brief moment
until it careens back and
slams into me
disorientated

i should have been born twice
for how could i have
both my body and that
intangible inexplicable
something inside
it stirs at the molten core
of me
that chasm that forged
those graven images
that first gave way to
a pictographic language
and offered me
a voice
to explain that immutable
all powerful
urge
****
to throw myself on that
red button and
detonate
burst into a million pieces
and finally relieve that
nauseating pressure
of adipose smushed between
holy bone and
saintly skin
interloping in that space
and separating two lovers

barriers create madness

walls box me in
and yet i grow
an expanding balloon girl
macy’s day parade and
candy littered streets
and razor sharp edges
to steel walls pressing harder
against me than
my supple skin could
ever possibly press
back

i can’t breathe

there is no room
for my lungs to expand
and feel the
fresh sun filled meadow
of crystal air
delivering oxygen to
starved alveoli
and i can’t find your chest
to guide me
in impossible respiration

i’m suffocating in my own skin
from no outside force
but my body itself
turns inward and
shouts its dominance at my
cowering self
sniveling in the corner
of my dusty half used heart
where no blade could possible
land a blow deep enough
to silence the torment and
particular personal poison
a torture to course through
every part of me
activating every single neuron
and making me
hyperaware of my
shame and noxious
venomous corpulence
a reality i
never wanted you to see
but is written plainly
in fiery script across my forehead
and in every fold of fat.
on how it feels to be in your body when you are having a body dysmorphia episode
kiki thomas Mar 2015
Search inside yourself for love,
It has to start somewhere,
You have to love yourself before,
Others even start to care.

I learned the hard way,
I suffered alone,
Body Dysmorphia,
As it is better known.

I went insane first of course,
I couldn't look at myself,
I hated everything i was,
At risk of being left on the shelf.

People would say,
Surely it's not that bad,
But what do they know,
I was way past sad.

I decided to take it,
One step at a time,
I decided to change,
I started the climb.

Out of the dark,
No longer alone,
Working through my fears,
With my husband at home.

— The End —