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Elena Jul 23
I never wanted this.
I never wanted this hell upon me but she just grabbed me in her cold bony arms. She hugged me so tight and she would not let go. I am so **** cold. I cannot move anymore. I cannot run. She is eating my soul and my body away. Her lifeless cold eyes seemed so warm to me. She was my friend and my lover. She played me over and dragged me into this wretched hole. Thoughts would repeat all over_
I am fat
I am fat
I am fat
I believe her words. She brain washed my brain thinking into it that she is always right. She must be.
Ylzm Jun 29
It'll speak to you when you wake
Thus I wallow long in bed
Till I hear and duly feed
Then I'll rise and eat the cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
Even at times before bed
Then you're waiting as dawn peeks
To run with no time for cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
But ignore it before bed
In nightmares it'll haunt your sleep
Till you walk and forgo cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
Why study when time for bed
Books are weary but sleep's sweet
Thus you'll eat and keep the cake

It'll speak to you when you wake
If not you'll despise your bed
To roam and ceaselessly seek
For real food and not the cake
Alio May 6
Eat
[Redacted]

Deny
    D e n y
        D  e  n  y
Stress caused bad habits people…to break or not to break
Mark Wanless Mar 31
my freezer is full
of vegetables and meat
i wonder what to eat
Mark Wanless Dec 2021
the dog eats my heart
i love it now forever
i eat her heart back
Clay Face Oct 2021
I’m triple smoked.
Inundated in a cloud.
Guda, salmon, and a cigarette.
Lay me down. Come be with me.
Something simple. I need warm skin, nothing put in.
It’s slow now. Even with death in my lips, lungs, and mouth. Violation at my fingertips, comfort at your hips.
This cuddle in mist, as sand slips from ancestral vas. Can’t be more tonic. Not even a clean breath from my stacked haze does compare.
Your presence is softer than a compliment, warmer than a gaze fair.
Your hair on my chest or my head on your breast seal a lair.
We swap the feeding hand.
Weakness is a virtue. A face unmasked in rare.
Among a stage smooth, soft skin, slick like ice, warm like loath.
Sticky with sweat, and with a low foggy stench that creeps in your nose. A familiar one, an intimate one.
A vapor that flames when you care.
This addictive fetor to foe.
Of nicotine, sweat, and lewdness.
Is a muse to you and I.
That cigarette set the mood, and you set me in.
mark soltero Oct 2021
bile splatters the wall
dreadful peace fills my veins at once
it’s all going to be okay
the worst of this is tooth decay
i can’t rely on others to know better

how can something so disgusting feel this pure
why does this burn in my throat bring me closer to perfection
tears feel valid only when they’re forced
it all feels so wrong
but i can’t let go of this control
peace can’t stay here anymore

but don’t leave me like everyone else has
i’ve given up on everything
i can’t face the world without you
tears shed just for you to stay
please lie in this filth next to me
don’t flee like the rest
there’s no other way i can cope today

the mirror leaves me unrecognizable
the reflection is a lie
you can’t let this happen
here to destroy me
the progress we’ve made
i can’t become an embarrassment once again
i brought you here to take on some of this grief

lonely times in the bathroom
the tile still feels so cold
warmth you gave feels like daggers in my stomach
like bugs trying to escape
i didn’t eat the food
it’s eating away at me
I AM SORRY BUT I'VE BEEN FEELING BAD AND NO I'VE NOT RELAPSED THAT WAS MY MINDSET YEARS AGO, I'M JUST FEELING BAD ABOUT MY WEIGHT GAIN FROM MY ANTIPSYCHOTICS
Dave Robertson Aug 2021
Summer’s not done
but the oven plinks anyway
and the sizzle of potatoes
in too much fat rattles on
regardless
Dave Robertson Aug 2021
You need to cook

to think about what tastes good
and shop with tastebuds, textures and time in mind,
challenge your palate
with things you might not like
but just maybe through salt, fat,
sweet and vinegar
you’ll begin a journey with no end

Start with basics:
pick a thing that as a kid you loved
and muck about with it
add stuff, take stuff
reflect on heat
(too high is the trap we all fall in,
or too low, through fear)

Most of all cook, as a ritual
make victuals that force a grin
that draw friends, families and lovers in
and with greasy fingers and chins,
grand sustenance and common guilt,
we’ll smile and rise
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