Kaylah S Jul 23
I don’t like my  body
I would say hate but it’s a a harsh word but in reality that’s what I really mean.
I don’t like my body.
My best friend is skinny,
She tells me that she wants to go on weight gainers,
I don’t want her to go on them because, “it’s just chemicals and it could kill her like they did my cousin,”
On one hand that’s my reasoning but in reality I just don’t want her to feel the way I feel about myself every time i look in the mirror or see myself in pictures.
Now that won’t fix her problem but I’d rather do everything in my power to make others feel comfortable in their own skin rather then working on me.
I diet.
I diet all the time but I can’t seem to stick with it.
I start by downloading a bunch of calorie tracking apps.
I desperately try to stay under the the amount the tracker tells me I need to stay under.
I do fairly well.
I try to work out.
I try little cheats.
But none of this matters because I can’t see the physical results.
Time for the tape measure.
My ass isn’t getting bigger.
My stomach isn’t shrinking.
Nothing is happening so I must suck.
Or I’m just destined to have no hips and a muffin top.
My friends have all heard it time and time again, “IM ON A DIET!”
But they know I can’t stick to it,
They know I can’t do it.
When I give up I gorge on the things I took away from myself.
I eat so much I feel disgusted with my existence.
I didn’t mean to eat that much.
I shouldn’t of eaten that much.
That’s why I’m fat.
But I can’t shake this cycle.
I stare at other girls.
Not because I like them but,
Because I want to look like them.
I want the flat stomach or at least the even proportions.
Plus sized.
Surgically enhanced.
And many more,
All better than mine.
There’s no name for me, whatever it is I don’t want it anymore.
I want to love my body and I feel like losing this extra weight is the only way but then I’m side tracked by these bloggers.
You know these self love and self care bloggers on twitter.
Saying you don’t need “this” the be pretty and you don’t need “that” to be ugly.
“Be your own definition of beautiful”

To the bone I am becoming,
losing track of what I wanted to be,
I'll find myself being pencilled in
with grayscale tones painted over me.

To the bone I am becoming,
break my fingers, my limbs and my soul,
you'll touch me as you wish, burning me thin,
'til I'm fragile - no parts of a whole.

To the bone, I am becoming,
even though I'm desperate to try,
because all I can taste is your hands on my skin
and bitter and dark was the fight.

To the bone, I am becoming,
I'm addicted to losing control.
My bedroom is littered with matchsticks and gin,
To the bone
To the bone
To the bone.
~~ Trying, failing, rinse and repeat. ~~
Em Quinn Jun 14
when i was younger,
my mom would turn the mirror to me with bright eyes.

"look at my beautiful girl!"
she'd say.
her truth was the only one that mattered,
and so i'd smile,
crooked teeth and disheveled hair
because, well,
if she thought i was beautiful,
surely i was.

i'm sixteen, it's been ten years.
time has worn my confidence thin.

i can't look in the mirror anymore.
slr Jun 4
Beauty, why do you evade her?
Why will you not let her grasp you?
She searches for you daily.
Meals become foreign during her quest.

Why will you not let her grasp you?
She searches the mirror but only sees a mistake.
Meals become foreign during her quest.
The map on her body is not a treasure map to her.

She searches the mirror but only sees a mistake.
Numbers are more than a math problem to her.
The map on her body is not a treasure map to her.
Beauty, why must you hide from her?

Numbers are more than a math problem to her.
Her best friend is the floor of her shower.
Beauty, why must you hide from her?
Why will you not show her you were always there?

Her best friend is the floor of her shower.
The water washes all the broken parts away.
Why will you not show her you were always there?
She doesn’t need water to fix what’s never been broken.
I wrote this for a class assignment and fell in love with it. I struggle a lot with body image and felt it embodied a person's struggles with body image quite well. I felt the ending was sad but still happy which I try to do a lot in my writing and felt it was delivered well in this piece.

This poem style is called Pantoum. This means that the 2nd and 4th lines from the 1st stanza are the 1st and 3rd lines in the 2nd stanza and so on.
Nicole Eden Jun 3
i fling my hair in your face as to catch your attention
i purse my lips in an attempt to grasp a glimpse from you
i open my mouth and laugh extravagantly to boost your ego
i let my cardigan fall off my shoulder to show you i’m easy going
i spin around to lure your eyes in
i bend over to pick up your wallet that you dropped on the ground
i hand it to you with a pearly white smile and captivate your attention
i use my body in a way that it was not meant to be intended
i use my body to boost my ego while blaming other women for boosting men’s egos
i know what i am doing but i cannot stop
i want the attention my body brings me
“can’t you get attention in other ways” they ask
yes but i feel my body is the only way
and this is the problem in our society and i too am guilty
Lightheart May 23
The next time someone asks
“what’s the secret? You’re so skinny!”
I will tell them
“My anxiety physically eats me from the inside out,
and one day it’ll eat me up completely
so that the only thing left
are these burdensome questions you asked
a stressed out little girl”
Sometimes it feels like my whole body is trying to look as anxious as I feel
Adam Lawler May 21
A barrel cast of porcelain I bear
A white-furred bull upon my waist reclines
The alabaster eggshell buried there
A hollow suffocated by design
I am, by ring, the oldest living tree
With form bereft of grace or limber charm
A prairie pale rolls forth atop my knees
Of silent waves composed into my arms
But ring and ring again supplants my will
As heat with yeast and dough will slowly swell
A tabby cat loved lazy, sweet and still
A sleeping pulse within a clownish shell
The valley miles above my buried chest
A place where, lying still, his head may rest
Leigh Marie Apr 23
my body is 100% woman
all curves and no straight angles
full of grace and love
a pillow to hold

my body is 100% miracle
all strength and perseverance
awkward and unique
a frame to remember

even when it feels
full of shame
I still know it to be
anon Apr 16
let me tell you how it all happened

they'll tend to tell you bullies caused it
or that everyone has the same experience
and it starts because
other people
forced it to

but what i have to tell you
is that i did it to
i'm a turncoat
to my own flesh

i would look in the mirror and see
a gut
and suddenly
that was all i could see

no matter if my calves were toned
or my arms were sticks
i saw that gut
or my
curdled thighs
and that was all

so i'd say i wasn't hungry
or i'd "sleep" through a meal
and i'd work extra hard at practice
pretend i wasn't always run down

and even if i'd pass out
or struggle to stay awake
i'd pretend like it was sleep
i was depriving myself of sleep

and you know that cycle
in every anorexic girl's story
where her body bloats before it thins
because it's trying to protect her

i went harder in that stage
so i could lose the weight that made me a 2
instead of 00
and i would cry myself to sleep
because i was in pain
and physical

but i couldn't stop the
i gave

my dad would tell my friends
to make sure i would
but i never listened

and now i look back
and see my former shell-f
a self that had no self
a self that was only

a shell

a turncoat

What I Feel Apr 3
Internal convulsions occur when I
at that body that people tell me is beautiful,
but all I can comprehend is that slab of undesired waste
piled up on that heap of toxic reoccurences
that I am too cowardly to face.
My body confidence is at rock bottom.
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