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.
Jules M 4d
With the violent jerking,
And battering of my heart,
And my self-image,
I have deteriorated.
I don't want to look at myself for a second longer than it takes
To put on my face in the morning,
Because if I do,
I will begin to poke and prod at my own flesh,
Feeling as if I am going to upchuck every calorie I have consumed
In the 15 years, and 120 days of my life.
If I look at myself long enough,
I am repulsed,
And my day from that point on will be violently,
Disruptively disordered.
Everything I am forced to consume,
Because of the need to hide my disastrous disorder,
Will become disgusting, half-digested
Vomit.
And rottingly,
I will feel pure,
And vile,
All at the same time.
Her 6d
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
Peter Balkus Apr 13
Ed
You won't change me,
I know who I am,
I've got my music,
I don't need anything else.

I'm just a man with the guitar,
who loves writing songs,
I've got soul on my shoulder,
a soul full of love.

So take your money,
take your fame and your pride.
Don't worry about me,
I'll be fine.
“How quickly can I drop a size”
And so the game begins
Don't accept your Grandma’s pies
Or touch the cookie tin

The kitchen’s a forbidden place
The gym a way to win
Your urge to occupy less space
Just couldn't be a sin

Tea fills your stomach for a while
It helps to keep you pure
You train so you can run a mile
Then just one mile more

Chew gum so you don't have to eat
Swim laps around the pool
Too tired, stressed or full for treats
No meat becomes a rule

Track intake for the smallest food
Chips cannot be a snack
You fast when you are in the mood
Until the world goes black

You're cold and hungry every day
And bruises start to show
Your mind won't let you stay awake
You're blood pressure’s too low

You see no reason for alarm
A diet’s always hard
You can't get wishes from a charm
Work for what's in your heart

Perfection cannot be attained
Without some sacrifice
And sometimes sacrifice means pain
But that gives spice to life
Carolina Apr 1
Again to the start.
All of the things that I lack.
It begins when you notice your heart holes
and what follows is the loss of self control.
You try to stay healthy
but one day you end up empty.
And you go back again,
wondering if it will ever end.
You start will little things;
skip dinner,
sleep an hour more,
avoid your studies,
not answering to your friend.
And then you go for it,
wishing it would stop your heartbeat.
You don't eat for days,
you sleep more than what's normal,
you isolate from the world,
you stay all day at home.
Your body's fatigue is too much,
and your stomach begs for lunch.
You feel weak and worn out,
nothing can help you stay up.
You're starving but you feel ill,
you do anything to feel the thrill.
Your skin's too dry now,
your hair's falling out,
you can hardly emit a sound,
you fear you'll gain a pound.
The urge to feel that sting
makes you silently scream.
It's too sad to be true,
you swore this you'll never do.
But here you are;
all messed up.
Not accepting you need help,
trying to control your painful yelp.
So, here you stay on your side of the glass
waiting for time to make this pass.
She’s no longer a person but a number on the scale,
driven by her inner voice’s need for her to become “dainty” and frail -
starving  and purging all in a bid to succeed and never fail,
but by giving in to “Ana” she simply cannot prevail.
Carter Ryan Mar 22
My head spins,
As I lie down.

I stare at the ceiling,
Feeling light,
Weightless.

And sick.

Gathering strength,
I lift myself from my bed,
And carry myself to the bathroom.

In the mirror,
I see a whale.

Despite so long of holding back desire and cravings,
What i see is still the same,
And it will never change.
Shae Mar 22
If I were not in an
eternal
beauty pageant, where the girls who were
fainting on stage were
#1 ,
and the girls like me
were sliced and diced ,

where the girls who were
clinging onto their bones for life , won . . .

It would feel . . .
[I]l i g h e r .
All of the weights on my back ,
lifted off.
It would feel free.
For every bite over my limit
would not count as
another sit up added to 300.

I would see . . .
[I]less measuring tapes.
I would see people , and just that.
I would not look at everything with
numbers
on top of them ,
when I see food ,
no calories ,
when I see people ,
no pounds.
I would not look at everything and see numbers, and think about how it would
effect
mine.

Lastly ,
It would sound ,
oh how it would sound . . .
[I] q u i e t.
I would not be screamed at ,
by my best friend , Ana ,
I would not be shamed and
guilt tripped for
taking a step , or sitting the wrong way.

I could pick up the goddamn
fork,
without being criticized about how
fat
my fingers are.

It would be . . .
scary ,
because even though she has put me through
hell ,
she is my best friend in the times
most needed .
She is the one who comforts me the best.
So even though I would see so much clearer ,
it would be a loss grieved.  

And that ,
is the scariest thing about this disorder ,
is how
the thing that tears you apart everyday of your
life ,
is the thing you just can not let go.
hey , its a long one but it is important to me.
Belle Mar 10
she told me it would be okay. that everything would work out.
that i could lay in summers green grass, gazing into the blue sky.
she told me it would stay sunny, she didnt say fog would arise and clouds would start to cover.
she told me it would help me thrive, give me wings and grow flowers.
but when the wings grew they were broken. the flowers made me choke. i couldn't fly, i couldn't breathe.
the sky was all grey and she told me to keep going, there would soon be blue.
she would mend my broken wings with starvation and watching other people eat all the food i could not have.
she told me the flowers choke me to control me.
she was right.
she rubbed my wings with all the oils i kept out of my diet and they did heal.
but every time i would place food onto my tongue, or something other than diet drinks to flush my system, she would break my wings again and the grey would come back.
she'd reach down my throat and cut the flowers with shears of fire. standing above me as i screech in pain. waving them at me, yelling, "look what you have forced me to do."
so i walk with dead flowers and broken wings until i serve her again.
then she shows me a chart of all the food i haven't eaten in that week and applauses me.
i am tired.
i am in fucking pain.
but i am happy.
she heals me once again.
my flowers again choke me as they bloom, and i can fly.
my wings, stained with blood and tainted with scars.
I don't need food.
she told me that food is my enemy and food will only cause a disturbance.
but i am being sent away now and they are making me eat and ai am really unwell and doesn't she think that its about time?
i put the food in my mouth and finish one hundred percent.
she violently grabs my wings and pulls me to the ground.
one by one she plucks the flowers, i feel for my wings, where are they?
she told me, "don't you understand how much we have sacrificed?"
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