Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Fi Apr 2018
when I am ill I do not puke
I spew poetry
like a lady
Broken Arpeggio Apr 2018
The Light...

Breaks through an ever-expanding wall of darkness and despair,
In order to peel away the mask of smoke and mirrors;
So I can bask in your rays
Of unconditional love and understanding.
To the one that got down in the trenches and fought alongside me in my darkest hour...
Ellyn k Thaiden Apr 2018
I'll ride this high
Until I die
That Ana high
Will keep you alive

She feeds you euphoria
She fills you with doubt
First there is a typhoon
But then there is a drought

But nevermind the downside
Ana can help you thrive
Eventually you'll feel so high
You will barely feel alive
I've been battling this since I was 17. You tell yourself you'll stop. You never do.
Carolina Apr 2018
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.
Jay Apr 2018
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 **** 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
*****.
And rottingly,
I will feel pure,
And vile,
All at the same time.
Her Apr 2018
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
Shay Mar 2018
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.
Lee Matvey Mar 2018
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.
Belle Mar 2018
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 ******* 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?"
Next page