#bodydysmorphia
‘’a suffocating tightness wraps around
my body as i stand inside a
sea of people
i **** in a deep breath and
keep it there to surpress the
fatness that i was born with
you call my name
you give me a smile
you love me so deeply
yet the attention i’m given
will never exceed the
amount of guilt i feel
staring down at the scale
165.4
165.5
166.3
the number goes up
as the skin on my arms
thins from the scars i
cut into myself because
i think i deserve it
i stare at myself in the
mirror; cringing at every
roll on my stomach,
every pimple on my nose,
the gross stretch marks that
adorn my hips . . .
i’m so sick of this body
i’m tired
i’m so unsatisfied.’’
Apr 23
Apr 23, 2026 at 10:32 AM UTC
the body I live in feels like it belongs to everyone
but me
owned by those that perceive it
how could this body be mine
when I bend and contort it for those who
view me?
how could this body be mine
when it only holds my being?
how could this body possibly be me
when it will rot only after I die?
if this body houses my soul, how do I consider
this flesh my home.
Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 6:02 AM UTC
Dear Body,
I thank you for loving me back when I didn’t love you
I thank you for carrying me through the places we didn’t belong
I thank you for healing my heart from the inside out
And I thank you for helping me dance to the end of each song
I thank you for remembering how to give me deep joy
And I thank you for gifting me the freedom of choice
I thank you for not turning to cold rock or stone
And I thank you for the chance of empowering my voice
I also give thanks for your impartial forgiveness
And I thank you too for your steel-hard strength
I thank you for holding my soft soul with tenderness
And I thank you for affording me a life well spent
So what a truly admirable body you are
And know I shall respect you right up to our end
For this is my sincerest pledge to you
Forever together, my ardent and hardy very best friend
Sally 🐞
Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 7:35 AM UTC
I had thick cheeks,
My stomach round,
And my jawline
Was nowhere to be found.
I was wearing the shape
Of a bitter shame,
Too big to fit
Within my mirror's frame.
Cruel jokes
Collapsed my house of cards,
Shattered my reflection
Into countless shards.
Voices grew louder —
Like echoes in the dark,
Haunting every chamber,
Of my weakened heart.
Slowly, hunger,
Like a wicked friend
Became the spiral
I'd descend.
The untouched meals,
The sweat, the cold,
The ***** the gym,
The never told.
Coffee, water,
Cigarettes,
The guilt, the shame,
And the regrets.
Months later,
My bones began to show,
Like crude green grass
Through the melting snow.
Then I realized,
I had overdosed —
As my face resembled
The figure of a ghost.
From:
"You look fat, you're way too thick,"
To:
"Now you're too skinny, you look sick."
And sick I was, my dear —
Sickened by your voice,
Sick of all the fear,
Sick of all the noise.
Years passed by —
My tears have dried.
Sunlight rose across my sky,
A warmth returned,
Replaced the cold—
As winter faded,
I grew strong.
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 6:16 AM UTC
In the glass, I see a pretty face,
An honest truth, a sincere grace.
Fingers trace the lines that I thought were once flaws
Now free from society's laws
Lower the glass, a different view,
A wide form, a soul askew.
What I had perceived, now, a shrewd disguise,
I must hide the truth behind my eyes.
Will the mirror hear my silent cries?
My reflection warped, an arising grudge
Against my body, I will judge
Now I will stare and continue to weep
Because my body is too big for even the shadows to
keep.
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 9:36 AM UTC
i live inside a cage
a cage of flesh and blood
it suffocates me, yet i need it to breathe
do you think, if i asked really nicely, that i could
keep the lungs, but exchange the thick for thin?
keep the organs, but return the rest?
maybe put my brain and heart
into somebody else
someone prettier
someone skinnier
someone better than me.
everyone around me, all uniquely bland
each in a different font, but the same copy/paste
i see them all around me, carrying themselves so lightly
like they could get carried away by a gust of wind
i could never even imagine the feeling of it
but these "curves" i have, so lusted after
are the very cause of my hatred
for this cage of mine
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 8:29 PM UTC
My fork picks up another chaw
My hand brings it to my maw
My brain screams, begging to stop
My sweet tooth, rather, takes a chomp
Walking aisles, grabbing bags
Chocolates, candies, carbs and snacks
Wallet straining, choices hard
My tooth, however, swipes the card
My jeans keep pinching at my hips
As sugar passes through my lips
Food stuck in my head like song
My sweet tooth only plays along
The scale becomes my enemy
The numbers only frighten me
The mirror shows a form not mine
My sweet tooth tells me all is fine
Dec 25, 2025
Dec 25, 2025 at 5:04 PM UTC
I want to carve off my body
—just because I’m in someone’s line of sight.
I would have been fine,
if everybody just gouge out their eyes.
I would have been fine.
I wouldn’t have cried.
If I felt no eyes —I could have been fine.
But judgement burn holes
—so I kept gouging out my soul.
Oct 16, 2025
Oct 16, 2025 at 12:08 AM UTC
When you look in the mirror,
What do you see?
Is it an Adonis,
All muscle and sinew?
The **** curves of Aphrodite?
Or the flab and puniness
Of my reflection?
Are you ever satisfied,
With what God gave you?
Could you ever look and think,
That is it, I’ve made it?
I don’t need your body shaming,
I do that on my own.
So goodbye to confidence
And hello to shame and guilt.
At not being what you want.
Unable to be happy in my own skin.
Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 9:52 AM UTC
It’s gray and it’s me
I’m a transparent manatee stretching at the seams
Covered in fat, shiny leaves that turn upside down
Strike me with a boulder and pop my skull open
Like a balloon filled with tears and lotion
Bury me naked in a closed casket
With heaps and heaps of violets
I used to be told that I carry the burden well
Sometimes I look at the animal and try to identify it
Other species’ features float through my mind and once a month I see a resemblance
But nothing really classifies me for long
What’s the point in cooking the way you always wanted to cook
If even to you it tastes sort of bland
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 7:26 PM UTC
i forgot what i looked like.
or maybe i never knew.
maybe i've only ever been
a pile of edits
a draft that never made it to final form.
too many versions—
none of them true.
but all of them hated.
every.
single.
one.
i watched myself
like a villain watches the hero
waiting for the failure.
my eyes burned holes
in every reflection
with rage
or fear
or something worse—
that quiet, creeping disgust
that never announces itself
but settles in your bones
like mold.
my body shifted.
again.
again.
again.
the scale moved.
the mirror warped.
the lines on my face turned corners
i don’t remember drawing.
i became
a blur.
a glitch.
a shape i didn’t sign off on.
and standing there,
what’s left—
just a sad mountain
of a hopeless woman
whose only consistent feature
is her pain.
those eyes,
always those eyes.
a flicker of hope once—
turned
to shame
turned
to silence
turned
to a stare
that says
"you’re still not enough."
but those eyes?
i’d know them anywhere.
i’d recognize that hurt
in any body
on any planet
in any lifetime
and still
call it
me.
Jul 18, 2025
Jul 18, 2025 at 9:02 PM UTC
_to exist_
when i want nothing but love of my own
for myself
some of it,
dedicated entirely to my being,
my skin, by all means
and i feel like this skin isn't mine
like a second layer
some days i dream of tearing it apart
and perhaps finding what i look like
within
is it any different from the other deformations?
do i have it smooth, baby-like, good enough, to be accepted?
had it been all natural,
nature-given, that way i'd have perhaps accepted
alas, knowing it's a play of the world onto me
and in my body,
my blood messing up everything it's meant to do for me
all because of the ones that were supposed to create antibodies
_there's this guttural scream that ensnares me whole_
where do i go
when i see them fight the demons outside and around
i can't even win the battles that i carry within me, all time round
and i'm on a war with myself
there's rage, there's ache, there's the pain
of when will i accept
i shall forever bargain
why do i even begin to heal if i have to go down the same place
down the same low
the lows hit lower
i see new symptoms, new symphonies of how it could and would
and it does—it gets worse again
and it's a cycle
healing, accept the white little ***** that carry the science of potential magic
put all my hopes, have them disintegrate
go back again
start at the beginning, new dose around—i'm healing
and then i come crashing down again
and it's the nights
and the mornings
that are the worst
both the times, when i should be at my best
i'm battling, wanting to hide and disappear
and wear a snake-like skin on myself
_i hate me_
and this hatred lives deep within like a monster that birthed itself
out of the normal, the ordinary that i have lacked
there are days where i pull at my roots
watch them fade
watch them fall
i cry and lose hope with every strand that couldn't stand tall
and it's like cemented on me
had it been scales on a snake, i'd have called it flashy
it's disgust that's piled in my eyes, against my being
i see the look on my face
the dead, the dead stares back every time i try to play pretend
and it whispers
it whispers, smirking in my ear
_this is what you get_
be normal?
oh i would do anything—exchange half my lifeline
if i could live through a healthy half of life
or whatever remains
i've tired myself out of it all anyway
there's bumps
and there's fractures
i feel like it's my own skin that peels
every time i grasp it
and it's visceral
too graphical, no gore however
makes me wonder
how it'd be—moments of softness
where i cherish just me
where who i am isn't my enemy
even just for a breath
i wish to write about that breath
but oh—
imagining is hard when there's nothing left for you to do
the ones living in delusions have thought and wondered if it could all come true
my case is different
so far, years upon years i've been hoping
but the last of this strength, the last drop in the vessel that was given
it might run out as soon as i stop breathing and moping
and i am perhaps the most devastating liar of all
you shall never see me burning myself to the ground
for i'll stand tall through it all
and in front of your lies, i'll deceive and speak my practiced lines
i'm alright, it is what it is—i'll be fine
_i won't be. i am not. i'm tired. give me some hope._
i might be a ***** for feelings
and i fear—i fear so loudly in a silence
call me a prostitute—love is what i want
hatred is all that i got
i have been hiding
and i've been running
and i sat in this adventure ride
never got back out of it
i'm scared
and i don't think i'll get out of this shell ever
so i imagine myself hiding
covered in multiple shells and armors
walls surrounding me, boundaries in the form of
words and my own scars—the ones that aren't even on the surface
protecting me, giving the silent comfort
that they are here, to carry me on, forward
and i've lied so much
i started believing my own lies
forgetting what was the truth
'cause it hurt so much
what do you do when you go down?
_where do you go when you are drowning?_
quiet is peaceful
quiet is welcoming
like i don't have to perform to exist in here, no
especially the dark
no one can see me
i can't see me
and that's just easy
to exist that way
been felt for, not seen on the surface
not just looked at, but heard
for your voice to find out of your own existence
there's voices in my head
that'll scare you more
what even is there to love
or like?
i see nothing
and on the surface
it's all to despise
show me if there's something
don't tell me it's the heart that's worth it
when you starve yourself for long enough
the void of hunger becomes like it's a normal
the new normal
starving myself of everything
to get used to it the best way
_the void_, though
continues to grow
i get these random bouts of feeling
such immense loneliness
makes me want to pull in the closest person
hug them tight
take all the warmth
squeeze out my life
i'm layers upon layers
of words and of stories
of people i've met, their memory
and of all who've given up before me
_girl in pieces_, i shall call myself
_would anyone even want me?_
Jun 28, 2025
Jun 28, 2025 at 12:03 PM UTC
Sometimes I hate my body
But sometimes I feel like a hottie
It's unpredictable how I feel
The feeling of hated can easily steal
It feels like such a crime
But I guess I'll have to take it one step at a time
To relearn to love myself again
Maybe I'll feel like a ten
Having something of my own
Wishing I didn't feel so alone
To feel more confident in that bikini
Sometimes I wish I was just a little more skinny
It's hard for me to see other girls look the way I want to look
But in the end I don't want jealousy in my book
They say the prettiest thing a girl can wear is confidence
I wish I had more of that.
Jun 26, 2025
Jun 26, 2025 at 7:20 PM UTC
My body craves it, but my mind doesn't.
Next thing you know, the bite goes down my throat.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You're a disappointment."
"You'll never reach your dreams."
"Why don't you just eat less?"
The devil on my shoulder says.
It's not easy. It's never enough. IM never enough.
"Didn't you just eat? You're eating again? "
"Why don't you eat? You've ate nothing but gum.."
"Hey, you look a little glum are you okay?"
"I miss her so much. I had just talked to her yesterday."
Jun 19, 2025
Jun 19, 2025 at 4:06 PM UTC
When she smiles and laughs,
It no longer sounds hollow,
For she has learned
To mask her sorrow.
She's so uncertain
Of why she is sad.
Her life is fine now.
Why does it hurt so bad?
Tears won't fall.
She forgot how to cry.
Most of the time
She just wants to die.
She's obsessed with this concept
That skinny is perfect.
She pukes if she eats
Just trying to feel worth it.
She looks in the mirror
And hates what she sees.
She slices her skin
Screaming, "I don't wanna be me!"
But by tomorrow
No one will know
She'll smile and laugh.
The scars won't show.
They think she is better.
They couldn't be more wrong.
She plays the part well.
They think she is strong.
Now and again
Someone sees past her mask.
They study her face
And quietly ask.
She looks back smiling
And she says, "I'm fine,"
But the sad truth is
She always lies.
Jun 18, 2025
Jun 18, 2025 at 12:22 PM UTC
i see a mass standing in front of the mirror—
a human, perhaps.
i can't call her a girl.
she doesn't have the attributes—
enough to be called all that.
it's a reflection,
undeterred,
simply wretched.
there are marks on the mirror—
proof it hasn't been cleaned.
i wonder if they're on my body too.
i hope the glass has enough cracks
to hide and tell
how it feels every time
i discover the same wrecked look
staring back.
the skin is loose
around a few different hooks,
feels like it's sagging—
i pull so hard,
hoping i'll tear through.
i feel nothing but pain
for her,
hidden beneath all that disgust—
the turmoil i'll put her in,
the self-hatred.
and to think—
she’s just become
a black mass
of everything and nothing.
a loathsome, foolish little being
that can’t fit,
can’t talk,
can’t sit.
she’s not the ideal.
and sometimes i think
her existence
isn’t for the world even—
she’s just a scandal.
May 29, 2025
May 29, 2025 at 11:00 AM UTC
beauty is pain
that's what they tell the young girls
that looks matter more
than comfort
caked on makeup
that weighs your face down
tight clothes
that show off your body
but restricting your lungs
starving and counting calories
just to achieve the hourglass figure
plastic surgery and botox
just to meet the beauty standards
they go through all this pain
and suffering
just to reach the ideal image
that changes so quickly
so you can't keep up
and are constantly adjusting theirselves
trying to feel beautiful
but what they don't realize
is that no matter how much you try
to fit in
it will never be enough
beauty is what you make it
be comfortable in your own skin
wear what makes you feel good
eat when hungry
starving makes you feel worse
there is light at the end of the tunnel
i promise
May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 7:42 AM UTC
these models in magazines and billboards
set unrealistic expectations for young girls
thinking they need to starve themselves
just to get the flat stomach
and hourglass figure
envying every girl they see
who they view as prettier than them
going to such extremes to fit the rapidly
changing beauty standards
leaving their youthful bodies behind
to go under the knife
and inject their face with fillers
just to be called beautiful
to feel beautiful
but then the standards change
and they don't feel beautiful anymore
they do more procedures
and exercise until they drop
until the standards are to be natural
and it feels like it was all for nothing
that they'll never be enough
May 3, 2025
May 3, 2025 at 3:15 PM UTC
i feel like i'm chasing a body
that i'll never reach
every time i feel like it's in my grasp
it slips through my fingers
hunger pangs is my new normal
skipping meals and snacks
filling up on water
as not to gain weight
losing weight is all i can think about
i never have seemed to love my body
always thinking about how i look
i compare myself to everyone
and i never achieve what they seem
to have so easily
once i lose weight
it always comes back
i can't keep it off
you can tell me thousands of times
that i'm not fat or that i look nice
but your compliments will fall on deaf ears
my body has felt big since a little kid
even when i was malnourished
i saw obesity
i'll never love myself
May 1, 2025
May 1, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
It's Wednesday.
A flicker of nerves runs through me.
What will it say today?
The machine that holds half my worth.
I worked out four times last week.
But you skipped a day—two weeks ago.
I've been eating 1200 calories.
Have you?
What about the late-night snacks at 10 PM?
What about the weekends?
The scale will see.
It won’t lie.
I get on, and immediately, I hate myself.
A 2.5-pound weight gain in 14 days
I want to starve
I want slit my wrists
See if it teaches me a lesson:
Eat less,
Work harder,
Harder,
HARDER
The scale mocks me.
I hate it so much,
But I can’t stop.
It’s an addiction.
Tell me—
What will you show me in seven days?
Will I finally be enough then?
Mar 20, 2025
Mar 20, 2025 at 12:14 AM UTC
i don't remember when my body became something i didn't want to notice
unable to tear my eyes from the mirror,
wanting to break it
i recognize every little change:
bony collarbones
dark bags under my eyes
noticeable rib bones
never-fit-before clothing sizes
hollowed out cheeks
tighter skin
smaller arms
something new everyday
when i was in middle school i loved food
i couldn't understand how people could just not eat
three years later
and i'm taking notice of how much weight i've lost
since I started skipping meals
Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 12:37 AM UTC
i'm starving
literally
the bell rings
its lunchtime
my mind dings as i get in line
i see a skinny girl
without a tray
i guess shes right
no food today
i'll wait for dinner
i count it all in meals
if its more than one
then i'm breaking my deal
in my mind
it always repeats
"i can be pretty, i just can't eat"
someone calls my name
i wonder what they see
do i still look the same?
do i still look like me?
Nov 30, 2024
Nov 30, 2024 at 12:05 AM UTC
i don't remember when my body became something i noticed
checking my reflection daily,
stopping at every mirror
i recognize things i haven't before:
my thighs touch
there are small dips in my hips
new stretch marks
never-seen-before freckles
a soft jawline
widows peak from my dad
something new every day
when i was young i only cared about my hair
i would tell people i would never ever cut it so i could look like Rapunzel
eight years later
and i'm taking notice of how long it has grown
since i cut myself
Nov 29, 2024
Nov 29, 2024 at 2:53 AM UTC
i watch birds fly every day
i watch cars drive every day
i watch planes soar through the sky every day
i watch people falling through the ground every day
a few times a week i see children morph into nightmares
a few times a month i see my friends walk through walls
every so often i can smell a church burning down somewhere
every once in a while everything goes quiet
all the colors around me shift either 4 shades darker or 2 shades lighter
lighter
i want to be lighter
i want to be able to lift off the ground just like the birds
i want to be so light that i can slither through molecules
as thin as a paper
i want to walk through walls
i want to morph into something scarier than my nightmares
i want to remember what it feels like to not be scared of falling through the floor
i want to burn down a church
and then cry and beg for forgiveness at the feet of the lord
i had to, i'm sorry.
it was the only way to feel like he's truly gone.
i want to be high on the feeling of screaming at the top of my lungs.
but i can't find anything that raises me up enough to feel that.
diphenhydramine morphs children into nightmares.
dextromethorphan makes people fall through the ground and walk through walls
the devil himself makes me remember the smell of a
church
burning
down
but i've never seen a church burn down
perhaps it's just my mind manifesting my thoughts into physical sensations
Mar 17, 2023
Mar 17, 2023 at 12:34 AM UTC