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Michaela Ferris May 2015
Looking in my tainted mirror
Disgusted by what I see.
The fat protruding through my shirt,
Covering every inch of my vile body.
Hating my reflection,
I must get rid of the fat I see.

Calories I can't stand,
Cut them down,
Cut them out.
Lose the weight and maybe then
I'll finally be happy in my skin.

Workout, build up a sweat.
Don't eat,
Don't feel.
Work the weight off so you can see
Bones sticking out, the glorious wish.

Looking in my tainted mirror
Disgusted by what I see.
The fat protruding through my shirt,
Cutting out and counting down
The evil that enters my mouth.
I must get rid of the fat I see!
Audrey Dlesk Apr 2015
Who said you can't buy happiness?
It seems the more money, the happy you are.
Don't you get happy on payday?
Can't wait to spend the money yourself

The people over seas starve.
They have no money and no food,
Does that mean they can't be happy?
Who said they can't be happy?

People loose their homes everyday,
They live on the streets and in shelters.
They look miserable and depressed,
But who said they can't be happy.

Who said money can buy you happiness?
Money gets you things you want,
But does it ALWAYS make you happy?
Money can't buy you happiness.
Chase Gagnon Jan 2015
I want to starve for my art with you
until our faces have sunk in
and our shy skeletons have shown themselves
through our skin, scarred with regrets and tattoos.
I want to write with you
until we hallucinate those skeletons leaping from our bodies
and waltzing with each other while we lay
limp and high on the floor —
until we have nothing left but each other
and stacks upon stacks of 99-cent notebooks
filled with testaments of our madness
and love
like some kind of unholy matrimonial vows
that bind us together
with a silver coil.

I want to paint on the walls with you
until our ****** apartment becomes a gallery
the best gallery in New York
that no one will know about,
at least until we OD
and the stench of our frail bodies leads them here
to these walls painted with the last of our strength.
Until you know how it feels to have death
breathing on your neck
and offering to buy you a drink
and take you home
to pick your mind like a gentleman.

Let’s write our story
then jump from the bridge of sanity
that connects the pointless gap between reality
and the brick wall on the other side
that looms over humanity—
so fall with me
until you know what it's like
to be loved by a poet
who most think is dead inside.
Until you know that I am beautiful
when you step into this little world
that I’ve made up like a god
with one big bang
of imagination and lies
spiraling forever into a darkness
that no one but me
will ever comprehend.
Atiya Ebony Jan 2015
Land of the free, home of the brave
With watchful eyes on your pockets  
Your mind they plot to enslave
But that's all I have,
that you can't take,
My knowledge of who I am  
what I want to make of my name.
Lock me up behind bars.
Rob me of material possessions. Bestowing a feeling of helplessness, their only form of weapon.
Lianna Walters Jan 2015
Dear *******,
How dare you call me an attention *****?
How dare you tell me you understand?
Tell me,
Do you know what it’s like to look at your reflection,
And turn the other way, ashamed?
Do you know what it’s like,
To know you’re you,
Down to the last hair,
And hate yourself for it?
To stare at yourself, to look into your own eyes, to try to convince yourself that it’s fine, but in actuality it’s a cover that you’ve learned to wear everywhere, that you’ve learned to love, because when you’re in it nobody knows?
Do you know what it’s like to walk everywhere, terrified, because you feel people looking at you like you have a giant sign that reads “DEPRESSED ANXIETY FAT UGLY NEVER ENOUGH SO KEEP WALKING”?
Tell me, do you know what it’s like to look in the mirror, force upon your face a smile, knowing it’s a mask that’s been permanently glued to you by your own tears that could never show?
No, you don’t know what it’s like to wipe away your smudged makeup that you’ve worked so ******* to cover up your tearstained eyes, your cuts.
To apply a new coat, to paint on a smile that’s only real in dreams.
You know, they say dreams come true but forget that nightmares are dreams too.
They tell you the monsters are under your bed when they actually scream in your head.

You don’t know what it’s like to feel lonely in a crowd, to know you’re not wanted.
To hold and rock yourself because there’s no one else to.
To realize that you’re all you have and doing your best to hide anyway,
Do you know what it’s like to want to die?
No.
You don’t and you never will.
But I do.
You don’t know me, or what I’ve been through.
So don’t ******* judge me for it.
Sincerely,
Me
This goes out to everyone who thinks I'm too young to feel this way....to everyone who thinks depression is a phase.....to everyone who discards my feelings because I'm "too young" to feel like this....***** you.
Everyone else, have a nice day :)
Sam Knaus Dec 2014
Two chicken strips
and half an order of fries
and my stomach hurts like hell.
You tell me
that I need to be strong
more so now than ever
because falling apart will have
dire consequences.
I'm not sure which would be stronger:
Restricting my appetite further,
or giving in to the temptation of
more than one or two small bits of food
per day?
Whether it is braver
to suffer through the pain
of chewing and swallowing,
or to attempt to curl myself into nonexistence
behind a locked bathroom door?
Is it stronger to work for hipbones
thigh gaps
sipping wine from my collarbones
pointed curves and sharp edges,
or to "accept" my thighs
my stomach
the way my skin covers my hipbones
to the point of indistinguishableness,
barely being able to wear tight shirts
for fear of how my abdomen looks,
I promised a week.
I promised a week
but all I can think about is
the control that I'm lacking
wondering if it's not food that I'm starved for
but self-hatred
and self control.
Jinxx Nov 2014
This glass surface shows myself
It shows how I look, how I twitch
It shows my kinks and flaws
I see how big I am, over run with fat
I see how I wish I looked
Eat an apple go on a run
Eat fruits and veggies
  This glass surface shows myself
It shows my face, my slight collar bone
It shows my pale skin and dull hair
I see I've gotten bigger, wider than before
I see how I wish I looked
Eat some granola maybe some water
Skip a meal maybe two
  This glass surface shows myself
It shows my ribs and my hips
It shows my sullen face and jutting bones
I see I'm still big, as fat as before
I see how I wish I looked
Fast today, Fast tomorrow
Drink some water and have a *******
  This glass surface shows myself
It shows a skeleton with skin
It shows my brown eyes, void of light
I'm bigger than I'd ever thought was possible
I no longer see how I wish I looked, just fat
Fast today, Fast tomorrow
Fast the next week and the week after
Stop consuming stop the fat
If you don't eat you can't gain

Most people don't know this but only 1 out of 5 guys will be diagnosed with anorexia and 2 out of 3 girls will be diagnosed with anorexia. People think guys can't have it. Well truth be told they can and they do diagnose or not. People really do this, they hate them selves because a piece of glass said to. Society just fuels it. I'll be honest and say that this is true for me.
                 ~<>~Jinxx~<>~
*sigh* My life *****
I have this aching, gnawing hunger,
it just won't seem to pass.
Why can't I ever find a fix,
the fullness never lasts.

I binge on *** and purge with shame,
it's become a sick, twisted little game.

I was always taught that holding hands,
is something from a lover.
How can you kiss my head, and nose,
but say you don't care without a stutter?

Since when did staring longingly into eyes,
become a mask or some disguise?

What is the truth, tell me, does it exist anymore?
If a guy kisses me, holds me, caresses me,
then shows me the door.

Is there a realness, does it exist?
These things cause so much bliss.

But they're just a fix, to numb my hunger.
For REAL love, affection, lust, and desire.
What is real affection, is it out there?
This ******* is causing too much to bear.

I'm starving, I'm aching, please stop doing this to me.
For my heart is too big, too big for there to be no love to be.
Lukas Nov 2014
The Seeker my dear friend is very sick. Could you guys help me out and tell her she's beautiful. Let her know she's not just a number on a scale but a human being that's loved and respected. Her and every other person needs to know,
  
       No matter what we are people. We can be geeks, jocks, outcasts, and fit ins. We can be cheer captain or a mathlete. We can wear black or barely wear anything at all. It doesn't matter. You are beautiful, you are strong. She can hold his hand. He can kiss his cheek. She can hug her. It doesn't matter how you dress, how you talk, what label they gave you, or who you love. We are all people and I want you here. So stay awhile dear and see what the world has to offer.

Repost this and share to the world who we are
Repost if you agree we should be more exceping
Revenant Oct 2014
Raining and thunder and lightening and frightened
What happened to sunshine?
Cold and starving and desperate; hopeless and desolate
What happened to grace?
Drown me in the waves crashing about in your mind
Filet my heart with your calloused hands
Love me in the pit of your stomach, where hatred lies anything but dormant
Kiss me with everyone you are
Destroy me in your wake
You are a burning church, and I am
face-down in the Holy Water
screaming out hymns;
trying to drown out the flames.
I love you
My dearest love
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