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Arden Sep 18
I don't have an eating disorder
But
I eat one meal a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
I cant eat more than 700 calories a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
I have to skateboard at least 5 hours a day

I don't have an eating disorder
But
If I don't know how many calories is in something I can't eat it
cupid Jan 22
he cooly walks down the hallway
long strides with hands tucked in pockets
only he knows what’s to come
he takes off his rings before he reaches the bathroom
tucks them and his right wrist bracelet away
his left side bracelets cover pale cuts
he won’t take them off
click
the hollow lock slides shut on the stall
his fingertips leave a weird taste at the back of his throat
he spits into the porcelain and water in front of him
not enough
when he presses into his throat
his body revolts
it’s disgusted, it panics
you’re shaking
tears form in his eyes and he tries again
gags and throws up
it’s sweet like the iced coffee he drank
it burns like his morning showers
he leaves to wash his hands
he spits into the sink before walking away like nothing happened
his stomach hurts
he still walks with utmost confidence
he’s empty inside
he slips back into his desk and chews cinnamon gum
he regrets what he did and can’t wait to do it again
he’s a real unfortunate story
Becca Lansman Jul 2018
My body and mind are at war
two beings occupying the same skin

the diverged desire firing bullets into the heart
creating a cacophony of chaos within me

One--
******* the jar of peanut butter
hidden by the blanket of dark sky
hugging the fridge like a newborn
caressing the chocolate bar wrapper

Two--
crouched over
crying in the shower
pinching my skin until bright pink, hot
with anger

trying to resurrect myself into someone more holy
trying to starve
out the monster within

only to find myself back on the bathroom tile singing gospel songs into the toilet bowl.

a cyclical strom
that will not stop raging

like a perverted lover
always, somehow
dragging you back home.
erin kingham Jun 2015
The shirt that once hung loose from my shoulders, hugs me as tight as a small child does to its parent on the first day of swim lessons.

Shorts and pants that I used to swim in, now fit maybe a little too snugly.

And the weight I want to lose like a pair of glasses, or a set of keys, keeps adding up like apples in a math problem.

Does the saying "it will get worse before it gets better," have to apply to everything?

Maybe my shirts will hang lose again, just as the children get used to the water in time.

Maybe the snugness of my pants will wear old, and my bottoms will go back to needing belts to hold them up.

Maybe a friend named Sam will need some apples, and we will learn to subtract.

Maybe I will feel safe eating one of those apples, without wanting to throw it back up again.

Sometimes I think that I never want to give up this disordered habit of mine.

And other times I know it will never do me any good.
*I'm still learning to look in the mirror and see more than a reflection.*
Stormy Grey Dec 2014
She stared at her thighs,
Tears streaming her face,
Wanting to hide,
In an isolated place.

Fatter and fatter,
They grew and grew,
Before her eyes,
Yet nobody knew.

The pain she felt,
As she watched her reflection,
Searching around her,
Wanting protection.

Her heart starts to bleed,
And her bones start to wither,
Her skin loses colour,
She continues to shiver.

The person inside her,
Causing these thoughts,
Distort her reality,
And need to be caught.

She has an illness,
A serious one too,
So please don't ignore it,
Cause next could be you.

So let's raise awareness,
Of these devils inside,
Let's hunt them down,
Leaving nowhere to hide.

Reach out your hand,
Come on, speak out,
We will beat this together,
Lets scream and shout--

To victory at last!
Its been a long time coming,
So many lost lives,
But we're no longer running.

Stormy
Not one of my best poems... I'm very aware of that. This poem was written for the purpose of awareness as oppose to an expression of emotion. Too many people suffer from mental illness and too many of these cases get ignored. Its time to take a stand.

*PLEASE NOTE* The first few stanzas of this poem may be triggering to vulnerable readers.
Stormy Grey Dec 2014
There comes a time
In everyday,
Where sense of reality
Withers away,

In hours or seconds-
Days or years,
Your soul will awaken,
Along with your tears.

Red as the roses
And weeping like willows,
The windows start crying
While your lungs start to billow.

But when this time comes,
And you cant get away,
Please stick around
For at least one more day.

I know things are hard,
But they will be okay,
Please let down your guard,
We will make it someday.

Stormy

— The End —