My kitchen is yellow
Ugly and faded
My kitchen is where
Late at night
I traded
Crumbs with a monster
A tiny little thing
That grows and grows
With growls and grumblings
She does not like the yellow
And neither say do I
Sometimes the hideous color
Makes her want to cry
So I placate her with cookies
Brownies and more
But my little monster
Throws tantrums on the floor
No amount of Nutella
Can get her off her knees
For my little monster
Has a minds disease
And I’m too busy fighting
That I can not see
The empty cartons of ice cream
Will bring her no true ease

I binged today. Normally I'd say, "it's okay."
but the truth is that it's not
I wish it weren't so hard to stop, but I have a disorder
One that many people just don't understand.

It's like I have a hole I can't fill inside of me
one that keeps telling me I need to eat more
"You're not full yet, eat this, eat that!" My stomach tricks me
Until it doesn't and I feel the consequences of my actions.

If only I could stop myself.
The people who think it's as easy as telling yourself no are wrong
I spend money on food that I think will help me,
try to create a new habit called "eating healthy."

My disorder just laughs at this.
Because it knows what I'll do the next time I'm feeling anything
I'll go order a McDonalds number 3 large,
or go to the grocery and fill up my cart.

I'll get home and eat it too quickly til I can't move anymore
Then cry and feel angry that I'm too afraid to throw it up.

When I was waist high,
Freckles are angels kisses,
And bedtime seemed a comeuppance
Years old,
I used to wish to grow up in effort to shed my
Child's problems.
Now that the years have raced past,
I've grown into an adult's body
Along with adult problems,
And I wish I hadn't pleaded with the fates
To hurry it onward so.

I am bursting
From stomach to seam
With this overwhelming
Sensation
That some would call
Satiation
But I would call
The enemy

to the skinny girls
who taunted me for years
with your catcalling and put downs

please know you didn’t make me this way

**** it if you think I’m giving you that power
**** it if you think I will let that victory be yours

my brain is more complex, works deeper,  
than a simple desire to be YOU

believe me, I’ve flirted with it,
thinking you were all I ever wanted to be

but believe me now when I say that
you are not the cause of my empty plate

so run along and feed your ego elsewhere
because I refuse to feed it
by letting you believe

that I am the way I am
because I want to be one of you

The tree is dancing and flickering
Like some computer glitch,
ANd the sound of fpptstops trail me,
Doors shutting,
Chairs scraping,
Dogs barking in an otherwise empty house.
I do not know how to sav myself from this
Remix of unreal and reality,
Just hiding blasting music
Trying to drown out the sound of someone trying to **** me.
The figurine of the pink power ranger rests under my pillow while I try to sleep,
Guardian, protector,
Save me.
I do not want to listen to my thoughts.
They hurt adn conjure things,
Enamored of death or a way out of this hell.
At night I dream
Of people stealing the earrings out of mye ears
And hundreds of people chanting my name.
No matter where I run, they call me.
Even hiding amongst the frogs brings no relief
As their Ribbits shout my name from behinf the bushes.
Save me from this hell, my mind.
I don't want to listen to it.
I don't want to die.