My cupboards full of treats
I wish I could just eat
Instead of planing my life around
Stock piled up like the world is ending
But I'm scared of venturing out of my comfort zone
Leaving the bunker my mind's created
Incase I gain too much weight or loose my facial shape
Ruled by a number on a packet
Pushed down my a disorder in my head.
Hello thigh gap
As soon as you just about 2 weeks and 4 months away,
I was left astray,
Betrayed by my own delusion of beauty
And illusion happiness

Hello thigh gap
They say the apple doesnt fall far from the tree,
But I learned that didnt aply to me when I was three
Because I will never be like my mother

Hello thigh gap
I can't eat without beating myself up
I am such a mess
That I still can't fit in my old dress

Hello thigh gap
I want to be like those girls on tumbr
But im not even remotely skinny
Nor am I pretty

Hello thigh gap
I cant stand this self hate
Its my one fatal flaw
That might just be the end of it all
This may be triggering for some, so if you are easily triggered, then ignore this poem
Sally 1d
I didn't think things would turn out this way.
One day, I decided to cut out sweets.
A simple idea turned sour,
Running away from my problems gave me power
And I did it.
Five kilometres every day,
Followed by constant calorie counting.
The numbers were running through my head,
Until I struggled to get out of bed.
I stood up too fast,
And my world started spinning round and round
Until I hit the cold, hard ground.
The feeling of lightness became euphoric.
Challenging the scales,
Determined not to fail;
It was a wrong kind of rush to have.
The voices wouldn't leave.
Telling me all kinds of bad things like a high-school bully on repeat.
I started lying about what I had eaten to please my family.
Exercising like a deranged athlete.
Hopping around in my room without anyone knowing.
Starving myself to feel complete.
I was paper thin with a faint heart-beat.
moon 3d
i looked at my hands closely,
pinching the skin covering bone and calling it fat.
looking in the mirror for over half an hour after i shower makes me want to disappear in my bed sheets again.
i stared at my open refrigerator only to pour myself a cup of lemon water,
calling my eating habits a "cleanse".
i put my hands up in defense every time my friends tried to feed me and endlessly offer me their food.

i don't want it.
i don't know what my goal is.
i want to feel okay in this skin.

i want my mom to take back every comment.
i want my little sister to think before she speaks when she's angry at me.
i want brendon, my first grade crush, to take back what he said to my face in second grade.
cause you see,
i remember it all.

i remember my mother calling me fat like it was a bad thing when my first grade thighs couldn't fit into my hannah montana jeans.

i remember brendon telling me he liked me until i started to get fat.

i remember every time my little sister has told me i have no friends and that everyone leaves me because i'm fat.
instagram // @introawake

i've never really written about this. i've always wanted to because i thought it would make me feel better, like i could just put it out there and it wouldn't bother me ever again. but writing it all out made me hug myself, trying to cover my body from people who aren't even looking.
My depression wasn’t late nights and sad songs,
It was sleeping all day or none for a week,
I couldn’t think for myself as i was stuck on auto pilot,
My mind was trapped in a prison i didn’t build,
And screaming for help was useless no one was around for miles.

When i started to dress in things other than hoodies and sweatpants,
Everyone thought i was a-okay again,
I didn’t want to be a bother so i just went along with it,
I’m fine i’m good but was i really,
Not lying to everyone else but myself as well.

My depression fueled my eating disorder,
And it was too much for my boyfriend so he left,
I don’t need him or anyone else,
I’m going to get through this on my own,
Regardless if someone stands next to me or not.

I’ll never fully recover and that’s okay,
The calculator in my head still clicks from time to time,
And the clock by my bed will still scream at me in the afternoon,
But i can ignore the numbers and get out of bed,
If that’s not recovering,

What is?
ive suffered w/ bulimia and severe depression for over 4 years and i know thats not long and i may not have been underweight or been impatient but im recovering one day at a time.
I'll go bottled blonde,
I'll be, again, fragile and skinny.
In plastic surgeries
I want to waste every penny.
I wear makeup
until my skin's all messed up.
I took thousands of pills
until my stomach said stop.
I work out until fatigue,
I write down every meal.
When you say I look better
it gives me self esteem.
But fear strikes evey time
that I get closer to the scale.
It scares me that instead of a number
it'll show the word whale.
I desire to be
the prettiest in the land.
I long to have
the perfect golden tan.
Delicate flower
for everyone to stare.
The magnetic one
that has nothing to repair.
I want to look radiant,
I want to look like a star.
My idea of the perfect weight
will make me take it too far.
But I don't really mind
about my health nor my spirit,
as long as I'm adored,
as long as I have a merit.
They only see you if you're pretty,
they ignore all the wrong;
You may be unstable
but you're worthy of a song.
And I'm not even concerned,
not like someone will notice.
No one did the last time
but anyway I'll tell you this:
I don't care if you find out
all the things that I conceal.
You can talk all you want,
I have nerves of steel.
Hey there, Blue Apron,
We need to talk.
Come into my office.
Have a seat, big shot.

No no no, this time it isn’t
About all the pots.
Although those are an issue.
For sure. There’s just a lot.

Today I’d like to chat with you
About your clock.
Do you own one? Have you seen one?
You’ve heard a “tick tock?”

That’s confusing because you say here
The Glazed Chicken with Apricot
Should take 25 minutes.
But I can assure you, it does not.

I spent half an hour
Just giving the shallots a chop.
Not to mention mincing ginger
And making the chicken stock.

Maybe if I had a team of sous chefs
Or ran a kitchen sweatshop,
I’d get this shit done,
In 25 minutes tops.

So, while it pains me, Blue Apron,
I’ve given it some thought,
And I have to let you go.
This really needs to stop.
Because I simply have no more patience,
For this Glazed Chicken with Apricot.
Choke it down though you know you don't want it
Cram the calories into the bottomless pit
With stress and starvation comes restrictive cravings
Ice cream for meals and depleted savings
Feel the pain in your stretched out belly
Scarfing down peanut butter and jelly
You're a pig and you know it
But you can't control it
Your clothes hug you close
As your stomach continues to bloat
Five, six, seven pounds up
When will it be enough
When will you realize you're a product of your own destruction
If you skip each meal tomorrow you can start reconstruction
The thin girls stare and laugh at your look
One more plate of pasta is all that it took
You're disgusting and vile
Put yourself here on trial
Tell yourself to succumb to the voices
Starting tomorrow make better choices
Starve yourself daily
You'll love yourself maybe
Nothing like the feeling of an empty stomach
Your own strung up puppet
Bones through skin is a beautiful thing
It's a reason to get up on the scale and sing
Dropping like boulders with each passing hour
Making up excuses like "I'm allergic to flour"
Whatever the condition
You know your mission
Start the cycle however vicious
Ignore the foods that are delicious
Indulge in water and a baby food diet
If they ask "who wants seconds?" stay quiet
Because soon you'll be pretty and fit your summer attire
You can't wait any longer now it's dire
The flavor will fade and you'll hate yourself more
How about skip the cake and you'll even the score
Till the number's brand new
And your bones pierce right through
Don't stop till you're nothing
Put your shoes on get running
Embrace the disorder
Create your own border
Her 7d
that moment
when the worry
begins to seep into
my veins

that moment
when the pain
begins to play
tricks within
my brain

i feel my collarbones
and know i'll be

o k a y
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