alone, at midnight,
a glutton, i writhe with shame —
mac ‘n’ cheese my bane.
Graduate school sets you up for a very strange schedule, I’ve learned. I’ve also learned it’s best not to eat half a box of mac n cheese before bed. Or ever.
When I was small I said “Mom
my tummy hurts” and
then kisses and maybe a spoon of liquid
(icky) tylenol followed and then
when I’m bigger in shoe size, in brain
my stomach starts to bubble and
roil and twist I know the source
is not candy and the
cure is no longer kisses and
I need so much more I need
slow breaths and
no maternal concern concerning
itself with my intestines, small or
this stomach ache is causing mental warfare
it has left me in bends and folds
with my exoskeleton in the air
the fractures in my liver
have spread chemicals into the water
i'm losing contact with the surface of the blinded
for i've lost the key to their gated compound
i feel like a rope on its last leg
splintering at every pull
intoxicated by black tears and poisons
as i stand on the sand with my cold, wet feet
drawing blood from my paltry knees
you can dare to struggle and reach for me
i live deep in a dead rabbits home
filled with balloons from funerals
turned into after parties for the living
there you will find my limbs covered in chlorine
as they get ready to swim in black clouds
and empty hospital beds
inspired by Kurt Cobain
I never knew
If you gave me butterflies
Or just made my stomach hurt
Idk, here's a poem
It’s been 48 hours since food last touched my lips
48 hours of pain and starvation
I don’t mean to starve myself
I just can’t help it
I look at myself in the mirror;
With disgust and disapproval
I am not choosing the hunger
But when I look at food, I automatically become sick
I think of the times I’ve cried over my body
The hours I’ve spend ridiculing every stretchmark,
Every inch of myself that is less than subpar in my eyes
Do you think I want to be like this?
I sit and sleep;
instead of eat
My stomach growls
Sounds like thunder on a dry summers day
Speaking to me and telling me to stop being a ******* idiot
I tell you I haven’t eaten and your response is clear
But what does it matter to me what you think
At the end of the day you aren’t the one whose hungry
You aren’t the one who pushes her body to the point of breaking all in the name of beauty
Oh to be beautiful
Seems so easy
Especially when those words roll off your tongue
But I flinch in pain
As my body begins to eat itself
And you sense something is wrong
I tell you I’m fine
But based off the look on my face;
you know it’s not just a stomach ache
stepped on the scale today and I cried.
I feel sick to my stomach
I feel like throwing up these words
bottled up inside
but all I do
on the feeling of fear
leaving a bitter taste in my mouth
I don't want to eat
I just want to eat away the pain
wash away the fear
with bubbly sugars
filling my sensations
it's never enough
Why won't these feelings go away
My stomach hurts from the anxiety I feel everyday.
I can't possibly describe it any other way.
When I wake up from the two hours of sleep I had that night
I feel the pain creep in just like a bright light.
It shines it's darkness all around me
And whispers things that quickly drain my glee.
It makes my head and stomach ache.
It makes me think all the times I felt fake.
I get up and go to the bathroom
To look into my mirror of absolute doom.
It shows my face: exposed and pale
Because lately my state of mind has made me so frail.
I know it's a cliche emo thing to say
But why did my life have to end up this way?
curled up compact
as shockwaves of pain
twist daggers up my sides
doubling over metallic tang
as i coughed up rust
coiled within and writhing
as the shock slithers into aches
breaking apart in sulphurous acid
tearing holes in my viscera
as i'm blistered and vitriolic
as the irascible aftershocks
flowed magma on my insides
burning me internally
as i waited for it to be over
Inspired by: Guilt Tripping by Frnkiero andthe cellabration
Maybe I should run away.
Try to find a summer day.
What is Love?
Love is pain,
Love is butterflies
and stomach aches,
Love is looking out a window pane
looking like you in the rain.
i feel as if
the twisted blade
of a knife and
carved my insides out.
there's a pang
deep in my stomach
that sleep and hot tea
just can't cure.
you did this to me-
it was all. *******. you.