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EntityRightHand Oct 2020
DPD
I only feel fine when I'm with him
And when hes gone
I don't exist
Nicole Oct 2020
It speaks to me each morning,

The dawn of each new day,

Keeping me from eating,

My head is where it stays,

It strips me of my burdens,

Of hunger pangs, of pain,

It guides me to perfection,

It freely takes the reins,

It will be with me forever,

Of this I have no choice,

My friend, my foe, my conscience,

It's her, it's that voice.
Anorexia is an eating disorder
where there is a voice in your head
which keeps you from eating
to look slim and "perfect".

Remember
you are beautiful just the way you are!
Don't let anything or anyone make you feel otherwise.
Harry Roberts Sep 2020
Estrangement and resentment kills like pentobarbitone
Respiratory arrest for a fractured spirit feel like an anodyne
The broken bits of soul can return to the ether and make itself whole
While I become all in the dirt with the soil

Arrangement to derangement in disorder I toil
Peace in the darkest night against the midnight I coil
Velvet in it's embrace I find tranquility in the infinity
Lost my whole life before I returned to the divinty.
Nola Leech Sep 2020
My body is decaying with the knowledge that I can’t make it in the world
I wake up after a good twelve hours, aching and weak my only thought, you
I hear your voice in my head drilling me to walk up the stairs again
You tell me every day that you complete me that without you I’d be nothing more but the girl who was miserable with her body
The fat sausage finger girl who couldn’t fit in size twelve jeans
But with you, my dear Ana you’ve helped me drop 30 pounds in four months
I’m in love with you ana, you and your best friend Mia
I am a gray sky, and you are my storm
Lighting and thunder, my stomach roars but I can only hear your voice urging me forward
I eat at home, I take long walks alone
I have a notebook full of excuses that sleep under my bed
My room is a disaster, plates, and cups galore
I am disgusting, I’m hoping that when I reach my goal all of my flaws will fall away
I will be exactly like the pretty, skinny girls I see all around me
I’m cold all the time, it reminds me of when I got locked out in the middle of winter
I walked miles going forward seemingly nowhere
My coat taut fastened across my thin chest
But I was shivering, the unknown frightened me
But now I know where I’m going
You lead me with your deathly bone-thin hand
Outstretched arms you pull me in
My monstrous overgrowth devouring you
You squeeze me until all of the fat melts away
Until I am skinny
Until I am bone
Until I am nothing
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2020
Subterranean paresthesia
Has begun to pry (again)
The roots of which
Come out of this ground
As an isolated tree
Withered and dry
Surrounded by useless waters
And grawlix signs
Hanging from ropes
Like guns in the sky
Maria Monte Sep 2020
What is in a name?
An identifier. Christine. Paul. Bernard.
A sense of uniqueness. Foxy. The Rock. Buddy.
A personality. John. Chad. Karen.
A name is something to hold onto.

What is my name?
A label to keep me concrete when people forget
A phrase to pull me back down when I drift
An identity so that I don't mold into everyone else
My name keeps me together

But what does my name sound like?
I forgot where I placed my strengths
I forgot the way it was shaped to my body
My person slips away from the letters as they form into your mouth
and get lost in the bottomless sea of identifiers

Who am I?
Billboards and signs that paint "fragile" across a face like mine
Small, petite, figures that whisper "prey" and warn me of the big bad wolves
Unfamiliar faces that tell me that I am "too much" as my bones grind against them and their hands try to cup me smaller
there is nothing to keep me from vanishing

Who am I?
Worker # 187, making a dime as they make a dollar?
A father's daughter, a person to be handed and never to stand on it's own?
Am I my weakest moments?
Am I my triumphs?

Who am I?
My own mocking voice screaming, giggling, obscenities before I catch myself
My own motherly tone re-directing me from the bad roots in my childhood
I am this thing and then I am another
We are so inconsistent, as people

We forget to keep our names close to our hearts
To choose our own identities,
let ourselves remind each other that we are
who we choose to be.

My name, it echoes against the cages of my body
and it wraps around me
reassuring me, reminding me, piecing me back together
breathing life back into me.
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