my head scares me
yelling at myself in the car
I am so done
hitting the steering wheel over and over
I am losing it
salt water dripping down cheeks
food
food
food
makes
me hate
myself
it all comes
back to how
I am the problem
why feed the problem
starve the problem
its your choice
fat or thin?
I have so much to be grateful for
I dont know why I feel like this
I am fat
I'm just done

I'm seen as "****"
Or "Hot"
I'm seen as an icon
to boys' ****** frustrations.
It's my job right?
To please the male specimen.
Walk around the house in a revealing maid's outfit
or pull my shirt down enough to reveal anything.
I am to keep in shape
"Do squats, your *** isn't big enough"
"Oh my god, you're smokin' hot, babe"
"You aren't skinny enough"
"More makeup, not pretty enough"
have you ever thought of how I carry myself?
I live in a hole of social destruction,
consumption of my depression,
feeding off of my sorrows of not
being pretty enough for that "One"
well, maybe, just maybe, there is a chance that
the "one" wants me for all of me, not trying to please him
day in and day out.
I would be different if I let everyone get to me
I could be a *****,
Correction, a skinny, fake, self centered, *****.

I look past my reflection in the mirror;
whale-sized thighs, and
arms too big for the oceans
rain pours down like sharp daggers
into my flesh, and I’m tired
teeth hurt, and I’m tired
heart pounding, and I’m tired
my mermaid waves leave my head like
an old porcelain doll, dying
and I’m tired
I teach my body how to stop needing,
in with the calories, and I’m tired
out with the calories, and I’m really tired
silent screams echo at the fake reflection
that stares blindly through the broken
mirrors
**** me up, I’m seeing stars tonight
bones aching, and I’m smiling
bullets to the head, and I’m smiling
painstakingly dancing through the night
till I’m void of nothing,
they say empty is beautiful, and I want
so dearly to feel beautiful
calories scattered on the floor, like the
those scattered thoughts of everything
I used to be
and everything I am now
scatterbrain, tell me how you feel
when your insides are void of
self-love
you eat hatred for breakfast
and spit self-pity into your toilet
tell me again, silly girl,
do you feel beautiful now?

Run to the river, and take off all of your clothes,

no one is there to see that you're only made of skin and bones.

Doesn't it hurt not sleeping, and starving yourself every day?

Run to the river, and wash all of your pain away.

Down by the river by the boats
Where everybody goes to be alone

Where you won't see any rising sun
Down to the river we will run.

I walk to the borders on my own
To fall in the water just like a stone

Chilled to the marrow in them bones
Why do I go here all alone

I can tell by the pain in your eyes, you never go to the riverside.

“Have some chocolate.”
My first instinct is to say yes and
Devour the chocolate like I used to
Devour my insecurities but last
week I stood in front of my mirror
and traced the fat on my hips with
my chipped fingernails and I watched
my mother open up the seams on
my new pair of shorts because I was
too
big
to
fit
in.
Last night I stood in front of my
mirror and read poetry to myself which
used to distract me but my eyes kept
drifting to the non existent gap
between my thighs and I noticed how the
space between my stomach and my jeans
was gone.
maybe it was hiding from me.
“Have some dinner, darling”
my first instinct is to
devour it like I used to stuff my
my insecurities into the back of
my mind,
sorry ma, but why waste time on
food when I have already consumed
and demolished the ability to look
at my own reflection.
Sorry ma, but how do you expect
me to put food in this body that
feels like it’s tearing itself up from
the inside.
Last night I tried to count my ribs
in the mirror but I couldn’t find
them, and I wanted to feel my bones for
once but maybe they were hiding.
Last night I never went to bed and
I watched the sunlight pour in and
illuminate my body, head between my
knees on the bathroom floor and
tears streaming down my face.
I tried looking for my self confidence
but I couldn’t find it and I waited
for happiness but maybe,
maybe she was hiding from me.
I was always terrible at hide and seek.
Depression looked me in the eye
and told me I’d be happy soon.
She said sweetheart, don’t you worry,
you won’t hate yourself for long.
after all,
Dead girls are skinnier.

bone against skin
jutting out, thin --
i want a gaunt glow
where my cheekbones show
without contour

if running from my issues
keeps me trim,
and tiny meals
make me slim
i’ll keep grinding until
my hip bones pop --
and when i’m dead is when i’ll stop

Plump, skinny, short, tall
I'm surrounded by beautiful, talented people
They shine bright
Gifted
Short blonde hair
Plump *******
Long brown hair
Long waist
Tall and thin as a stick
Don't get me started on their eyes or face
I'm surrounded by beautiful people
All of them shine brighter than me

my friends scoffed at me when i complained about how my weight never gained
it seemed ever-changing
I wasn't trying to brag that i was the skinniest in the room
i was just saying
that I didn't know what it meant because the day before my weight was at a 104 and now it's at a 94 and is that even possible
i stopped eating 1-2 meals a day
and we claimed it on my small stomach but i couldn't figure out how my friends knew that my stomach was small
because i sure didn't
when i said that i hadn't breakfast or lunch yet what i meant was i haven't gotten help yet
people thought they knew how to fix me and so they glued me to my seat and forced me to eat three spoons of potato salad and i shamed myself for a week
I told myself i was weak
i later found out my eating was no longer a choice
or rather, my lack of eating,
because some days i just gave up and took a brownie because I wanted to so badly or maybe I took seven and later that night, things weren't alright because I couldn't go one hour without hiding in the bathroom
because i physically could not, no matter how hard i tried, the dragon named food, was untamable, it would not stay down in the deep cavern of my stomach and my throat began to burn from its fire, every hour when i was woken up from sleep
the dragon suddenly wasn't my only fear
because I really wanted to make those cookies with you or go to the grocery store without having a panic attack
the vending machine became my venting machine
people surround me with the food i can't eat and although I can't eat ribs
i can certainly see my ribs
and my wrist bones
and my hip bones, they feel like glass shards at war with my skin
and my vertebrae and i get it that people are skinnier than me but that doesn't make it okay because i feel like i'm a living x ray
maybe the next day I can eat all three meals because i haven't for four days
and yes sometimes I do feel fat and no i'm not going to finish that
and i cried when my parents said I couldn't have a donut and when my new doctor said i should do a healthier diet she said i should try it and I wanted to so badly but if you look closely in the word diet there's also the word die and it's hard to go on a diet when your whole life is already a plan of when I can
can i eat
but my only constant friend understands and sometimes i'm so scared and I have to hold his hands or rather his handles his name is bucket and he lives at the foot of my bed
and this is a poem is telling you it's not my choice
my food isn't the only thing i can't keep down its also my voice
please stop assuming that the skinny girl wants to be skinny or that she just "forgot" to have her dinner because she must have a terrible memory if she does it every night
it's a really hard fight
but lately things have been going alright
the dragon seems a little less fiery
and i guess it can inspire me
to tell you that just being thin isn't an automatic win