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Eleanor Sinclair Oct 2018
I hope my body forgives me
For what I’ve put it through
I hope one day I see
The truths I heard from you

I promise I will try
Not to starve myself as often
But there will be hiccups and lies
As I chew and chew to soften

The food will make me sick
Though I may not mean physical
But still they call me “thick”
Thin is paradisiacal

I’m sorry some days I can’t keep down my food
Or I can’t even look at the label on that junk
I know it would taste good
But it would just add to me another flabby chunk

The number doesn’t matter
It’s arbitrary really
I’m stuck like the mad hatter
And the mirror floats about freely

Yes I’m scared to death
But the death is so enticing
I push and pull each breath
But the sharp oxygen is slicing

Tired and alone
I wander aimlessly
With no place to call home
I can’t say I do so blamelessly

It’s my fault I’m so messed up
But I want that skin and bones
I rinse my mouth with a cup
After throwing up dark tones

I hope my body forgives me
For hurting it so greatly
It’s not who I want to be
But I’ve gotten much worse lately
Madalynn Lydeen Oct 2018

A simple number.
Four digits,
Four numbers,
1 thousand
8 hundreds
8 tens and
4 ones.

1884 calories.

A simple number.
Four digits,
Four numbers,
1 thousand
8 hundreds
8 tens and
4 ones.

7882656 joules.
Enough energy to heat 1884 grams of water by one degree Celsius per gram.
Wasted on me.

Which means to me
A day of careless eating.
Fat packing itself onto my skinny body.

A finger and some splashing.

I fixed my issue.
Oof this is literally the only place I talk about my friends Ana and Mia lol. I need to get help. I'm 108 lbs currently, but it's quickly dropping. I keep it under control, though.
Kellin Aug 2018
for more than moms affection.
my body is screaming for food.
and tonight we get the
real deal instead of
our usual fast

or flash-

frozen repast.
but any food is my
friend because it’s under
my control, unlike most of the
rest of my life. i eat when i’m sad.

i eat when i’m lonely. i eat when
i hurts so much inside, it’s
either eat or find an
easy way to die.
the only

time i

can’t eat to
total contentment
is when daddy’s around. “no
daughter of mine will wear double-
digit clothes”, he said once, and meant it.
A Simillacrum Jul 2018
I dream up lines
Spread a word
For the birds

The birds want
the bird feed

I swat the flies
Benchmark the binds
Stress the test
Do my best

The soul wants
what it wants

I've been too excited
About the things I learn
I've forgotten to hide it

The world is dark
The world is light
Which we define
Which we divide

Cut up and give a form

My heart is ill
I eat the pills
My mind is gone
I may be wrong

More often than I'm right

Lights in the skies
Here come aliens

While I'm on LSD
Sara Kellie Jun 2018
I wake up in the bath
after a day on the wine.
Fat ******* arrives
at mine around nine.
Friday night and it's too much,
the temptation.
******* powder with dehydration.

Back into town,
bouncing around like a clown.
Absorbing attention,
I'm the star of the show.
I'm cloaking my secret,
the one they can't know.

I'm out of my mind
and I've no Idea where.
I cannot go back,
'cause she lives in there.

I've been running for years,
purge after purge.
Yet I know come tomorrow,
I'll again have the urge.

Because I need her
and I love her.
I am her!

Poetry by Kaydee.
Running from my destiny but I couldn't run from myself anymore.
There are no words that I can describe my pain,
Besides fear, sheer helplessness
And bottled up pain and guilt
That was eating away at my soul
Until I couldn't bear it anymore.
1/2 a muffin and 1/4 cup of cereal
Settled in my stomach,
Only worth 1/2 my daily calories
But I still managed to feel guilty
Because of my lack of control.
Voices were screaming inside my head
I tried to fight,
I really tried
Lying to myself that it was fine,
I couldn't let myself believe I was worth anything
So I ran to the bathroom scratching my throat
Regurgitating the pride I had once swallowed.
And a lump of coal I tried to hide
Trigger warning
"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
Roberta Frosty Apr 2018
Purge mode! Purge mode!
Everything must go!

I haven’t worn these pants in at least twelve months.

This was my go to cute top in ‘07, but it shrunk.

These shoes are embarrassingly loud, they go “THWUMP, THWUMP, THWUMP.”

Once, in this dress, someone mistakenly thought I was knocked up.

Cool expensive hat from Anthropologie I’ve worn not a once?
Oh wait, maybe keep that one.
Nah, just kidding, PUUUUUUUURGE!
empty seas Mar 2018
i. hunger
It starts with the want
to fill the hole in my soul
that anxiety has chipped away at
with the only reliable thing
that will make me feel good
wonderful, instantly gratifying

ii. consume
Chocolates and junk food
or spoonfuls of ice cream
and a brownie
desserts that top off a Sunday brunch
push away the thoughts that say
this is a horrible idea
and feast!

iii. sickness
My stomach begins to churn
my chest gets tight
and I feel like emptying
my stomach
my mind
my life
regret attacks my stomach and mind
karma for the horrible decision
I made
junk food hates me as much as
I care for it

iv. guilt
My stomach is a bloated planet
my thighs its insurmountable mountains
look what you have done?
you fat idiot!
consuming and consuming
soon your body will make you unloveable

I try to empty my stomach
bent over pristine porcelain
sweat dripping down my face
desperately googling for help
to hurt myself

v. aftermath
Three-digit number
I’m too ashamed to speak it
but I feel the numbers
imprint in my mind
with a note
stop eating as much as possible
so guilt follows every meal
every moment spent in front of a mirror
is an inspection
bulging thighs
flabby arms
stomach barely contained
how do you show your face in public?
a binger too afraid to purge
when will you finally feel guilty enough
to take action?

these thoughts stay in my head
until the next binge
then they return again
I’m sorry I keep complaining
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