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Jaede Bayala Apr 8
the lights
d i m
im told to lay down.
candles are
put in a circle around
me they ask,
“do you hate your body?”
i say
they slice of a slab of
flesh from my
they repeat,
“do you hate your body?”
i say even
louder now,
they slash off more flesh
but now from the inside of my
they repeat one last time,
“do you hate your body?”
i scream
the candles blow out.
the ceiling opens up to
reveal a
starry night sky and they speak for the last time
“you are reborn”

-getting rid of my eating disorder
Jaede Bayala Apr 5
why does the
fat on
my body keep
me warm,
but my heart cold?

-self conscious
"Just eat."
The words that sunk into my brain like an anchor
It's easy to breezily dismiss my problems,
But they are much harder to fix.
My illness may inflict me with pain,
But I gain control.
Control over what I eat,
Control over the number on the scale,
Control over my life.
I just strived for perfection
I strived so much that it became an addiction
An addiction that I couldnt control anymore
No food after 10.
No sweets.
No fats.
No meat.
Every time I ate anything above 300 calories,
I would spend hours sitting on the bathroom floor, hovering over the toilet with a spoon in my throat
Until everything is gone,
No more food or pride left in my system
The only thing left was my self-hate, self-pitty, and eating disorder
haley Mar 2018
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
They told her
As she dug her fingernails deep into her skin
Rolled her waist thinner
Like her flesh was made out of playdoh
In the uncautious hands of a toddler.
Still, she begs for them to knead her into the particular
Shape, press into the clay of her stomach until
She is covered in fingerprints
Her life balances dangerously on her tongue,
steadied only by a love she will not swallow
For she has been told
“Too much sugar will rot your teeth.”
ngl this ****** i'm sorry but it's 11:00 and i want to go to bed
Ciara Jan 2018
I will no longer wreak havoc on you

I will no longer let you suffer because I was convinced beauty meant taking up less space

I will no longer let you confuse beauty with being sick and being sick with beauty

I will no longer starve you from not only food but happiness as well

But instead, I give you permission to thrive

I give you permission to take up space because your thoughts will always be more powerful than collarbones and thigh gaps

I give you permission to be authentic and not give a **** what anyone else thinks

I give you permission to truly live

I give you permission to love yourself
We're anything and everything but atypical.

Anorexia. Bulimia. OSFED, binge or orthorexia.

Hell, there's even hybrids now: diabulimia.

There's a name for every demon I've eaten. For the thing that lives inside of me; feeding off of starvation.

There's power in it. You know, the kind of sick courage that comes from skipping meals and counting calories.

Lower numbers, lower anxieties.

When you're thin it's an eating disorder, they say.

When you're fat it's called a diet, they say.

We're surviving on pills and Coke Zero. This isn't the 80's, honey, SlimFast doesn't work as well as ******* do.

I was taught that pain is beauty, but laxatives on an empty stomach are far from pretty.

I don't want to be beautiful, I want to be nothing. Not a thing in this world. What do I want?

To be like an Angel: perfection on the inside and out.

To be both powerful and protected. In control and out of it.

Is this Schrodinger's eating disorder?

It goes deeper than food. Farther than the veins; blue and translucent underneath my skin.

I'm cold and gone, honey. This thing has got a hold on me.

I'm water, tea, early mornings and late nights. Scales, chewing gum and breath mints.

I'm crushed by the weight hanging off of my bones, and I don't know how to get better.
NEDIC Helpline Canada: 1-866-633-4220

NEDA Helpline USA: 800-931-2237
MKM Jul 2016
When did the numbers become so important?
Why do these inanimate things begin to have so much power?
Constantly scrutinized, and measured by them.
Though they don't show the depth of our character
Or the things that make our hearts glow.
We reach for the right one never knowing what actually is enough.
Constantly measuring, but never enough.
When does it end?

— The End —