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axr Sep 2014
Girl,you're pretty
Now stop starving
just to be skinny

Girl, you're beautiful
Nothing can get down
Now eat that meal till your tummy's full

Girl, your life is precious
Don't risk it like this.
Walk with your head held high
And look at the positive things

Girl, I know it's hard
Near relapses, family
and your inner war
Learn to stay strong
Ignore their taunts.

Girl, remember you're beautiful
Someday someone's going to love you
and fade all of your blues.

Girl, you're you
With your talents
and dimensions
Those models on cover pages will never be you
A reminder to girls out there who don't feel great about their bodies. I am in recovery since 7 months and I haven't felt this alive before.
elizabeth Sep 2014
Eating is hard.
Not eating is hard.
It’s hard to be hungry,
and it’s even harder to be full.
It’s hard to say yes to food,
and to say no.
It’s hard to eat foods you know you shouldn't,
and not eat foods you know you should.
It’s hard to stare down a full plate and think,
“How am I supposed to do this?”
and it’s hard to stare down an empty one thinking,
“What have I done?”
Food is hard to deal with,
once you make it a situation
rather than a necessity.
Breakfast is hard,
lunch is harder,
and dinner is the hardest.
But maybe looking in the mirror is the hardest of all.
I wrote this a while ago and just found it
elizabeth Sep 2014
No one tells you
how to tell your friends
that you've been starving yourself
and no one tells you
how to tell them
(nicely)
that they went a whole year
without noticing
Jo Kent Sep 2014
It will end badly
I know it will
I know it will
I know it will
*I know it will.
It will end badly, I know it will.
Jackeline Chacon Sep 2014
I was always called a pig
I was always seen so fat
I was always feeling ugly
I was this and I was that

I was always called chubby
I was always seen strange
I was always throwing up
To hope a sudden change

I was always called a loser
I was always so depressed
I was always starving bad
My thoughts so obsessed

I was always called a baby
I was always called a fake
I was an attention seeker
Family help was a mistake

I was always called skinny
I was always seen so thin
I was called beautiful after
Did I lose?. Or did I win?.
E Patrick Heeney Sep 2014
•Copyright 1993-2014 snipet by EPH
E. Patrick Heeney from pg. 1 of 2
CRA-A-ACK MONSTER
WHEN WILL YOU EVER LEARN?  CRA-A-ACK MONSTER
DON'T WAIT UNTIL YOU BURN.

You just **** on a can to get your high
and do odd things until you die
first it was snorting, then you tried base;
you knew it was risky when you burnt up your face.
This is less than one third of the poem, my first poem. In honor of my long lost relative Seamus Heaney, who passed August 30, 2013, I remained reserved.
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