#anerexia - Hello Poetry

How much you eat, how much you weigh. Keep your portions at a bay. Eat some more, throw it up. Now you’re skinny but it’s not enough. You take some pills, you lay in bed. You have an image in your head. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a flawless face in the daylight skies.

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Oct 27, 2017

Oct 27, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC

TheOneLiving14

Her idea of perfect

How much you eat, how much you weigh. Keep your portions at a bay. Eat some more, throw it up. Now you’re skinny but it’s not enough. You take some pills, you lay in bed. You have an image in your head. Blonde hair, blue eyes and a flawless face in the daylight skies.

1

The mannequin faceless, Clothed in gold With hands pandering svelte, Remains an admired inanimate, Albeit, atop whispers to a girl, A 4-foot flower 3-feet my right, Fretting and stumped; Extrinsic a label – “undesirable.” The mannequin faceless, Her and hollow – A towering nose above, stands Opaque ivory, scarred come Synonymous eyes with a symmetrical Soul, assumed plastic perfection And more importantly, Soon to be sale. The mannequin faceless Convinced her new friend, Her lesser, lopsided, And natural not-so counterpart To consume, “Eat me, “eat me,” “eat it all,” And then, “binge some more.” The mannequin faceless SCREAMS, “BUY!” Amongst the other torments – Born both fingers that can’t move and The thumbs that shuffle, “One’s,” To the girl that was never, “Good enough;” so shared the Tabloid’s mouth. The mannequin faceless demands And DEMANDS nothing less than to Buy, starve, suffer and sacrifice So that every “broken body,” May embody polymer, and for a price, A not so fair trade whilst Considering old man gold, The curator of conundrum And the plastic he’s created.

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Jul 31, 2015

Jul 31, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC

liam-c-calhoun

Fake Plastic People

The mannequin faceless, Clothed in gold With hands pandering svelte, Remains an admired inanimate, Albeit, atop whispers to a girl, A 4-foot flower 3-feet my right, Fretting and stumped; Extrinsic a label – “undesirable.” The mannequin faceless, Her and hollow – A towering nose above, stands Opaque ivory, scarred come Synonymous eyes with a symmetrical Soul, assumed plastic perfection And more importantly, Soon to be sale. The mannequin faceless Convinced her new friend, Her lesser, lopsided, And natural not-so counterpart To consume, “Eat me, “eat me,” “eat it all,” And then, “binge some more.” The mannequin faceless SCREAMS, “BUY!” Amongst the other torments – Born both fingers that can’t move and The thumbs that shuffle, “One’s,” To the girl that was never, “Good enough;” so shared the Tabloid’s mouth. The mannequin faceless demands And DEMANDS nothing less than to Buy, starve, suffer and sacrifice So that every “broken body,” May embody polymer, and for a price, A not so fair trade whilst Considering old man gold, The curator of conundrum And the plastic he’s created.

40

Happiness: The ultimate goal, right? We all want to be happy We all want to feel fulfilled. We see pictures of smiling, skinny bodies and we know what happiness looks like. It looks like thin faces frail arms tiny legs concave stomachs The first step to being happy is looking the part.

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May 17, 2015

May 17, 2015 at 9:00 PM UTC

megan-97

Smile

Happiness: The ultimate goal, right? We all want to be happy We all want to feel fulfilled. We see pictures of smiling, skinny bodies and we know what happiness looks like. It looks like thin faces frail arms tiny legs concave stomachs The first step to being happy is looking the part.

12

A pretty way of saying; "The dead are stil alive," A gorgeous show of tolerance The facade never dies. It's okay to scream When nothing is alright It's okay to cower in fear, To want to end your life. The regret isn't yours, We do what we will Labeled as mental If we just can't sit still. Throw up the lies That hide in your stomach; We're not skinny in our minds', And the pain is redundant. But take a deep breathe, sweetie, You'll be fine. Just remember, my darling, Everything dies.

0

Oct 13, 2014

Oct 13, 2014 at 2:24 PM UTC

molly-e

Everything dies

A pretty way of saying; "The dead are stil alive," A gorgeous show of tolerance The facade never dies. It's okay to scream When nothing is alright It's okay to cower in fear, To want to end your life. The regret isn't yours, We do what we will Labeled as mental If we just can't sit still. Throw up the lies That hide in your stomach; We're not skinny in our minds', And the pain is redundant. But take a deep breathe, sweetie, You'll be fine. Just remember, my darling, Everything dies.

20