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Skyla Sep 15
Would you, If you could press reset?
You stole my heart, put it back in my chest
You hate me when I’m lifeless but I love my emptiness
I’m not the soul you once met
I just need to lay underneath the dirt and rest
All I see are silhouettes
Do you love me too much to forget
even in this mindset?
Or do you regret?

I don’t feel pretty, I feel scared

I wanna be your dolly, broken and impaired
Sad, skin and bone
In your arms I found a home
Made of glass and deeply fragile
You cradled me while I was in denial

Do you adore me, yet?

These handcuffs are tightening
Everything is frightening
I don’t feel the thunder but I feel the lightening

Just hold me, don’t scold me, I know that you worry, but I feel so lovely,
I’m lying, I’m dying, I hate that you’re crying, and you think i’m falling but I think I’m flying.  

You said that perfect don’t exist
Then why do I feel it in my emptiness?

You see my sadness and my brittle little head
   But you don’t see the gore or the bloodshed

I destroy you while I destroy myself
You don’t think I’m pretty anymore because I’ve destroyed my health

I  wanna be half, ‘cause I hate being whole
So I bow down to a porcelain bowl

You try to find my skin under the sheets
But you only find the swelling cuts and my bones, so you dig deeper underneath
But there’s nothing there.  Not even blood or muscle.  There’s absolutely nothing but air.  

And I know that’s not what you want to touch
And I’ve robbed you of the girl you loved
I’ve taken her place and I wear her face
and you miss her most, but for now all you have is her ghost.

You try to force life into the ghost of her body
How come you want the “healthier” her, but you don’t want me?

Do you not see how much I’ve done for you?
Replacing meals with fingernails and trying not to feel
Growing too thin so I can finally win
This game that you don’t even want to be in

I love you, and you love a girl who is withering away into nothing

You don’t love my body you love my soul
You love my heart, which has grown cold

I’m shivering under your fingertips in this hollow body, in this cold skin of mine
Not from your touch but from feeling no heat
No heat from your love, no warmth from your touch, just cold and sad and stuck.  

And when I look in the mirror and tell the ghost of me that she looks pretty
She screams in return and her eyes ache for me to see that I’m absolutely hideous this way

Darling, do you adore me yet?
julianna Sep 12
How can I send this message?
I tie a ribbon ‘round my wrist,
To keep a measure of my rib cage
And I scarf down my food,
I shower when no one’s around
Cause’ I can chuck it up in silence
Still trynna be silent because I’m paranoid
That I’ll spill Mia’s little secret
So many letters,
But I’m still wearing an “ED” necklace
round’ my thin neck
Read between the lines on my wrists
I don’t like being alone,
But I need help and you don’t give it, no.
the price you pay to be thin
you won’t even miss your fee,
it's just the feeling of empty

nevermind the color in your face,
draining into plastic bags,
filled with last nights hunger

no matter your darkening smile,
cracking into sunflower blossoms,
that you hide behind your knuckles.

don't bat an eye at your thinning hair,
swimming in your bathroom drain
strangling your hope of recovery.

now what could those tired eyes,
broken and red with strain say that
puffy cheeks and chapped lips cannot

lips like concrete, spilling weeds,
lips stuffed with cigarette love,
lips that once bloomed spoken word

but you smell of no dandelions.
you wear perfume of stomach bile
mixed with the stench of hatred.

the smell that every bathroom you visit
knows like the back of your hand,
the hand scarred with teeth’s embrace.

the side effects aren’t pretty
but that’s all a small price to pay
for the feeling of trying to be thin.
Laura Jul 28
I'd love to eat
I don't know why
I struggle
To put food
In my belly
I don't know why
I cringe
Just writing the word:
Belly
That's a fat word
And I want
to be skinny
I shouldn't have
a belly
Full of stretch marks
that hangs
just a little bit
I shouldn't
Have to lift
it up
or lean forward
in order to see
My feet
Whoever gave me
this belly
made a mistake
a huge mistake
because I never
never ever asked
for one

I never
never ever asked
to be fat
Aaryn Jul 26
It’s sick
But all I can think about
Is the pain

I think it’s an art
One that I have perfected
The ability
To ignore everything
But the pain

I don’t think
I could make room
for anything else

Because if I’m not cutting
I’m burning
If I’m not burning
I’m starving
If I’m not starving
I’m purging
If I’m not purging
I’m binging
If I’m not binging
I’m probably dead

And thus
All I can fit
In my brain
Are these thoughts
These morbid
Thoughts
Of pain
.9978324.
Lost Jun 9
All hip bones and ribcage
Flat stomach wasn’t enough
It had to be concave

Mirrors and lights
Lined up just right
******* in
As hard as I can
Why can’t I
Just be thin?
Another poem from my sketchbook I didn’t initially post.
mars May 29
Move into the morning light
let me see you in the way god designed.
All of this time you’ve spent trying to
make yourself perfect
but you were perfect all along
here in this light
bare
& beautiful.
You wake up beside her every morning,
She draws your curtains and blocks the sun, says,
“Sleep a moment more” and wraps herself
Around your waist, painted red fingernails
Dig into your sides and you suddenly find
You can’t see through the salt in your eyes.

Her tongue tangles with your lashes as she
Licks the salt away, saying,
“Shh, babe, they can’t know I’m here.”
She peppers your face with pecks,
Less like loving caress and more like bites but
To tell her “No,” has proved futile time and time again.

She stands behind you in the mirror, runs her hands
Over your body, leaving ice in the wake of her fingers,
Pinching your hips and thighs while she sighs,
“Oh, my light,
Why don’t you listen to me more?”

She catches your lips with every bite of breakfast,
Saying, “No, dearest, don’t give in,”
Kisses you senseless, but you just can’t tell if you’re euphoric
Or insane.

The taste of chocolate,
A knife in the gut,
It’s all the same to her.
So now you’re bleeding out on the floor,
And you wish that metallic taste really was a blade,
At least to swallow that would bring darkness instead of shame.
“The blood in your mouth has a calorie count,”
So you know it won’t be long until she takes that too.
lila Apr 29
it started off innocent enough
i heard the jokes
stage whispered into eager ears
and the muffled laughter
that inevitably follows
i felt every syllable
claw their way down my throat
i’ve been trying to reach them ever since

i admit this to you
in a body that buries bones
the dull corners not enough
to trigger your concern
no one looks at me and sees empty

seventh grade, twelve years old
i began skipping lunch
because i didn’t need it anyway
4 years later and
i guess i still don’t
this was my first venture
into restriction fueled by insecurity
because with a body like this
no one could ever love me

it’s so easy to say
i already ate
if i word it just right
no one asks questions when i disguise
my madness as magic
step right up! come and see
this body, the greatest freak show on earth
and i’ve mastered every trick in the book
so easy it is now
to conceal the dark magic
while i showcase the light

watch!
i’ll swallow blades and fire
and nothing else
i’ll regurgitate miles of handkerchiefs
in front of your very eyes
so you don’t notice what comes up after

the slight of hand
was the hardest to master
but now i perform it with ease
i can make this food disappear
before you even notice it was there
palm it in my hand
hide it in my napkin
bury it in the trash
where you'll never see it again
aren't you mystified by the unknown?

nothing can beat my greatest trick of all
a necromantic resurrection
of a dead thing
a zombie now walks
among the living
the parasite finally killed the body
it possessed

it latched onto my brain
thrived on my detriment
took and took and took
until there was nothing left of me
i was consumed by something
that was consuming me
this thing
that i've grasped onto for control
has grasped onto me
i've been reduced to nothing more
than my efforts to reduce myself
the parasite becomes the host

i heard the comments
and took them as compliments
gasoline poured onto an open flame
that i can't seem to put out
i thought this fire would extinguish
as the comments morphed to concerns
but that only made it burn brighter
and i'm not sure
how much longer
i can take this heat
shattered porcelain is still beautiful right?

piece me back together
but i'll never be the same
spiderweb fractures across
fragile skin may never fade
but maybe weeds
can still sprout through
i can paint daisy chains across my scars
and roses in the hollows of my collarbones
wildflowers grow
from the inside out
through the cracks in my flesh
and in the valleys between each rib
slow and steady
up my throat until i choke
but that's okay because
at least it wasn't food
i'll swallow bouquets
to keep my starvation in full bloom

the rumble in my stomach
became my favorite song
a national anthem
for a living hell
that brings life to these monsters
if you are what you eat
maybe i can be nothing

i dance around the word "anorexia"
like it's cursed
because i can't seem to admit
that this disease
has devoured my mind
and made every one of my thoughts its own
so i dress my words
in pretty metaphors
and tie beautiful syllables
around my sickness like a bow

but there's nothing beautiful about
hair that falls out when it's touched
and a body racked with chills
in a warm room
there's nothing beautiful about
losing everything
that matters most to you
friends, family
even the ability to have children
there's nothing beautiful
about ***** on your hair
and on your clothes
blood dripping from your nose
or that ache that lies
deep in your brittle bones

this disease is not beautiful
broken isn't beautiful
but darling
you are
4/22/2019
yellow soul Apr 28
How she moved so carelessly
when touched by the evening breeze
she sparkled like the light ***** in the night sky
however, I heard the anguish in her laugh
she consistently kissed me like it was her last kiss
danced as if it was her last dace
lived as if it was her last night
fascinated by everything
but I was only fascinated by her
how tiny her fingers were around her cigarette
how her bones looked like
they were about to leave her body
I never understood
But as she took off
Her bones became stardust
longing to get home
now I understand
that she never was supposed to be here with me
god had other plans for my angel
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