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theres a pack rat in my stomach
grabbing reason to starve myself

counting calories and carbs
till I think I might pass out

though logic is no burden
that mouse if knows my routes

knows the miles, knows the steps
that I’ll take for a piece of chocolate

and every night I try to cough it out
to purge it from rotting gut

they say this rat is life threatening
and that I can finally see

because one day I’ll feel it
tearing through this wasting body

there’s a pack rat in my stomach
grabbing reasons to starve myself
lib Sep 2020
skipping rocks and skipping meals
magazines are teaching her to eat less, no matter how she feels

models on instagram, tiktok, youtube, and twitter
setting unrealistic expectations with their photoshop and glitter

in size two jeans, hoping to squeeze into ones
it looks like she's living the dream, but in reality, it's not a good one

1000 calories or less, isn't it nice?
she's living in an eating disorder nightmare disguised as paradise

she's losing weight, but not feeling as though she's won
she doesn't want this anymore, when will this be done?

she's dropping pounds, but feeling so shattered
compliments left and right, but it's hard to feel flattered

she's eating nothing at lunch until she's too light to function
the cafeteria starts to feel like a dungeon

feeling sick when she eats "too much"
kneeling in the bathroom using the toilet as a crutch

and then she overcompensates with exercise
when will the people around her start to hear her cries?

things are out of control, it's becoming too much for her to handle
her world feels as though it's starting to dismantle

her mental & physical health is deteriorating as she loses the weight
when will they see what it's doing to her? hopefully before it's too late
this poem is about a young girl affected by eating disorders and missing out on some of her childhood because of the havoc that these problems have wrought within her life. it's also about the negative influence that social media and magazines can have on people of all ages, but especially on impressionable kids and teens.
Jaede Bayala Apr 2019
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
“yes”
they slice of a slab of
flesh from my
stomach
they repeat,
“do you hate your body?”
i say even
louder now,
“yes”
they slash off more flesh
but now from the inside of my
thighs
they repeat one last time,
“do you hate your body?”
i scream
“Y
    E
       S!”
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 2019
why does the
fat on
my body keep
me warm,
but my heart cold?

-self conscious
haley Mar 2018
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
They told her
As she dug her fingernails deep into her skin
Like her flesh was made out of playdoh
In the uncautious hands of a toddler.
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
Corbyn 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 —