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Anne Dec 2018
I thought I was smart enough to know that five m&m’s isn’t a meal
So I’m getting fat again yet I still have bulimic tendencies!! Awesome!!
Bunny Rubinstein Nov 2018
"Everyone wants to be a little anorexic" she says

"You know, like, in a glamorous way, like fashion friendly anorexic"

I bite my cheek and nod, pretend to agree

All I can think of is waking up to stars dancing on the ceiling

Pale skin with bruises of unknown origins

And battered feet on and off the scale

Almonds in Ziploc baggies

Bite marks on fingers

Hair down the drain

Measuring crunches by the marks they leave on your spine

And battered feet on and off the scale

Enough water to turn organs into boats

Eating an apple with a fork and knife

Desperate hands grasping for ribs

And battered feet on and off the scale

Standing and the world going dark

Coughing around shots of apple cider vinegar

Carrying an emergency rice cake for weak spells

And battered feet on and off the scale

Enough green tea to drown organs

Sugar free gum to mask the smell of decaying organs

Whatever nail polish covers yellow and purple

And battered feet on and off the scale

How many calories are in toothpaste

Thinspo blogs

Pillows squeezed between thighs

And battered feet on and off the scale

Is today the day my heart gives out

Waking every day in a new body

Fingers clasped around wrists

And battered feet on and off the scale

Notebooks filled with numbers

Purple crescents under eyes

Fingers clasped around forearms

And battered feet on and off the scale

Elbows knocking into hipbones

Being scared of your own reflection

Lies to get out of dinner

And battered feet on and off the scale

The stench of *****

Oxygen that tastes of Splenda

Fingers clasped around biceps

And bleeding feet on and off the scale

 

If this is your idea of glamour

Then you can have it
Trigger Warning
The girl with a beautiful smile
A vibrant personality,
And a picture perfect family.
Envied and loved.
Not a single person to hate
Besides herself.
The things that nobody sees is when
She breaks down,
Cries,
And every night
Hunches over the toilet
With a spoon in her throat.
Telling herself only one more time to be pretty.
One more time to be happy.
One more time to be loved.
One more time to escape.
One more time to get better.
One more time to stop.
She lets her emotions overrule
And demons take control.
Life shouldn't be this way.
Her father's a drunk, her mothers a drug addict.
She would do anything to escape this world
Of darkness,
But no one seems to know.
She puts on this picture perfect image
To protect herself,
Despite it killing her that her voice will never be heard
No one seems to even notice
The bruises on her legs and back
Or how she always seems to go to the bathroom
Every time she eats "too much."
If she told anyone,
They would hate her,
Her parents would hurt her,
And she would never have any hope
Of becoming the girl she pretends to be.
this poem is actually not really finished. I might delete this one later
liv Oct 2017
ana
that's what her name is
the name of my best friend
look up perfection and you'll find her there
she hurts me
she loves me
she protects me
she's ana
p e r f e c t i o n
liv May 2017
Not many understand but I want them to
I want them to know
How you make me feel
Restricting
Bingeing
Purging
Counting
Please understand what I'm going through
I want to talk
And you to listen
You are my best friend
But you make me feel this way
Why me?
Skye Carpenter Apr 2017
These sweet little pills flush my fears away,
eradicating every content of my gut until I feel okay.
The pain burns like a ravaging fire within, yet I am numb -
for I know that once I am empty, the calm will come.
Skye Carpenter Apr 2017
Self-hate rises like bile from the pit of my stomach and claws away at my throat -
the kind of pure loathing for which there is no antidote.
Revulsion of my reflection has claimed possession and poisoned me well;
and led to a destructive path that is the equivalent of Hell.
Anastasia Jun 2016
Alone
In a dark
Quiet room,
She lies on the floor.
Guilt swirling through her mind.

"But I'm better," she lies to herself.

The dusty mirror begs to differ
The voices in her head don't approve.
She can't stop thinking about the fat in
Her thighs
Her face,
Her stomach.
She pulls her hair away and
Gives in.

"It won't happen again," she lies to herself.

Alone
In a dark
Quiet room
She lies
In a casket.
Lou Morgan May 2016
My demons don't like
the food that I eat.
They taunt me, sending me
running to the bathroom in defeat.

You are not worthy, they say
as I bow at their request.
That food was no good.
now the toilet bowl is my only rest.

My heart breaks, slowly
and pained tears begin to fall.
I have nothing left to give, I say,
I've already given you my all.

I stand and try without success
to wipe my steady tears away.
Looking in the mirror at my swollen eyes
I remind myself tomorrow is a new day.
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