#bulemia - Hello Poetry

they say, you can’t have this body and this sickness. but they don’t hear the screaming silence, don’t see the empty plates, don’t feel the shame that swallows you whole. to them, you are just too much. to you, you are never enough.

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Jan 7, 2025

Jan 7, 2025 at 4:41 AM UTC

MundaneMaxx13

too much

they say, you can’t have this body and this sickness. but they don’t hear the screaming silence, don’t see the empty plates, don’t feel the shame that swallows you whole. to them, you are just too much. to you, you are never enough.

16

the hunger whispers like an old friend. you answer. later, kneeling, throat raw, you wonder— is this all i am?

0

Jan 7, 2025

Jan 7, 2025 at 4:38 AM UTC

MundaneMaxx13

ode to bulemia

the hunger whispers like an old friend. you answer. later, kneeling, throat raw, you wonder— is this all i am?

9

if i carved my pain into my skin, if i starved myself into nothing, if i made a graveyard of my body, would you believe me then? tell me, how much of me must i destroy before you see i'm already gone?

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Dec 27, 2024

Dec 27, 2024 at 10:21 PM UTC

MundaneMaxx13

sick enough

if i carved my pain into my skin, if i starved myself into nothing, if i made a graveyard of my body, would you believe me then? tell me, how much of me must i destroy before you see i'm already gone?

12

they say, you can’t have this body and this sickness. but they don’t hear the screaming silence, don’t see the empty plates, don’t feel the shame that swallows you whole. to them, you are just too much. to you, you are never enough.

0

Dec 27, 2024

Dec 27, 2024 at 10:27 PM UTC

MundaneMaxx13

untitled

they say, you can’t have this body and this sickness. but they don’t hear the screaming silence, don’t see the empty plates, don’t feel the shame that swallows you whole. to them, you are just too much. to you, you are never enough.

16

A finger in a jar, Spooning out peanut butter, In a cold empty house. A pack of crisps. A crunchy bar. A sandwich. Some fizzy. Slowly, Pushing the handle, Tap, Tap, Tapping, Gush. I push it all back out.

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Oct 1, 2018

Oct 1, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC

Sentient_Tacos

Tap Tap Tapping

A finger in a jar, Spooning out peanut butter, In a cold empty house. A pack of crisps. A crunchy bar. A sandwich. Some fizzy. Slowly, Pushing the handle, Tap, Tap, Tapping, Gush. I push it all back out.

14

At three or so I would awaken Out of a fragile sleep to the clang of pots and bowls Cabinets, silver spoons and a measuring cup Pancakes fried in a skillet Buckwheat from a box I don’t know how long I lay there Listening And I wondered whom else in the house can hear I was closest to the door that led to you Just one door that separates Were the others in this darkened house staring at the wall or ceiling? Counting? Afraid, just a little. Thinking about the morning when it comes After your feeding, the kitchen would be cleaned to its former glory Spotless And into the bathroom Right next to my ears You would step softly and close that door behind you Turning on the sink’s faucet And then the shower Taking the laxatives And wait I wait We all wait in this house for you to finish It goes on and on And then you turn off the water Go back to bed And maybe then I can sleep Again.

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Sep 28, 2018

Sep 28, 2018 at 2:14 PM UTC

swiggins

Insomnia

At three or so I would awaken Out of a fragile sleep to the clang of pots and bowls Cabinets, silver spoons and a measuring cup Pancakes fried in a skillet Buckwheat from a box I don’t know how long I lay there Listening And I wondered whom else in the house can hear I was closest to the door that led to you Just one door that separates Were the others in this darkened house staring at the wall or ceiling? Counting? Afraid, just a little. Thinking about the morning when it comes After your feeding, the kitchen would be cleaned to its former glory Spotless And into the bathroom Right next to my ears You would step softly and close that door behind you Turning on the sink’s faucet And then the shower Taking the laxatives And wait I wait We all wait in this house for you to finish It goes on and on And then you turn off the water Go back to bed And maybe then I can sleep Again.

33

The siren. Inviting, Promising. Ensuring happiness. Guaranteeing joy. Not until she traps you do you wish escape. Not from what she promised, but from the pain she brought you. But you've made a home for yourself here. You've gotten comfortable in the habits she's given you. But every time she comes to visit, something in your gut screams at you to escape. No, literally. Your gut. Your stomach. Your intestines. Your entire body becomes exhausted from chasing her promises. Now, you've forgotten who you were before she trapped you. You try and try for what feels like years to escape. And finally you succeed. You've successfully escaped the place you call home. After time and time of being lured back to home, I've come to learn this sirens name. She is what she does to people. To me. Forces me to control what I eat. Makes me second guess myself. Track everything I eat and drink. Make me guilty for eating something she doesn't like. I won't bore you with more boringly grim details, just know, She has sisters. Please, don't make the mistake of trusting their promises.

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Jul 27, 2018

Jul 27, 2018 at 12:13 AM UTC

joybowles

Sirens

The siren. Inviting, Promising. Ensuring happiness. Guaranteeing joy. Not until she traps you do you wish escape. Not from what she promised, but from the pain she brought you. But you've made a home for yourself here. You've gotten comfortable in the habits she's given you. But every time she comes to visit, something in your gut screams at you to escape. No, literally. Your gut. Your stomach. Your intestines. Your entire body becomes exhausted from chasing her promises. Now, you've forgotten who you were before she trapped you. You try and try for what feels like years to escape. And finally you succeed. You've successfully escaped the place you call home. After time and time of being lured back to home, I've come to learn this sirens name. She is what she does to people. To me. Forces me to control what I eat. Makes me second guess myself. Track everything I eat and drink. Make me guilty for eating something she doesn't like. I won't bore you with more boringly grim details, just know, She has sisters. Please, don't make the mistake of trusting their promises.

25

Whit ur ye daein? your mother said outside the lavvy. Daein mah business you said leaning over the lavvy bowl wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. If yoo're makin' yooself boak again I'll tan yer erse your mother said moodily. Aam nae jist normal mince you replied leaning back on your heels looking at the lavvyseat yellowing at the rim. Ye best nae be haverin' tae me she said. She walked off. You sensed the acid in your mouth. Your head felt hot. You got up and wiped your mouth with toilet tissue and threw it in the bowl. You pulled the chain water flushed. You breathed in the dank air stench of puke and ***** lingered there.

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Jun 22, 2017

Jun 22, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC

TerryCollett

KERSTEEN'S BULEMIC EPISODE 1995.

Whit ur ye daein? your mother said outside the lavvy. Daein mah business you said leaning over the lavvy bowl wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. If yoo're makin' yooself boak again I'll tan yer erse your mother said moodily. Aam nae jist normal mince you replied leaning back on your heels looking at the lavvyseat yellowing at the rim. Ye best nae be haverin' tae me she said. She walked off. You sensed the acid in your mouth. Your head felt hot. You got up and wiped your mouth with toilet tissue and threw it in the bowl. You pulled the chain water flushed. You breathed in the dank air stench of puke and ***** lingered there.

48

I blossomed into a temple all white marble no cracks in the walls no unfiltered air we are told to see the beauty in self respect but not taught how can you even teach it without experiencing a lack thereof? I crumbled beneath all the pressure of being pristine and chiseled emotion into the white walls they were a sacred prison that left me purging in the shower wishing I could feel totally empty Mentally. Physically. I showed a pretty boy my secret garden and I sipped the devil's poison from a golden cup perfection left me alone and aching and cut me deep on my upper right thigh down my arms across my stomach Sigh. But skin is skin and mine is ugly all the pretty girls tell me so so when you try to tell me you "love" me don't find it strange when I simply say "No."

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Mar 25, 2015

Mar 25, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC

canistartover

the progression of depression

I blossomed into a temple all white marble no cracks in the walls no unfiltered air we are told to see the beauty in self respect but not taught how can you even teach it without experiencing a lack thereof? I crumbled beneath all the pressure of being pristine and chiseled emotion into the white walls they were a sacred prison that left me purging in the shower wishing I could feel totally empty Mentally. Physically. I showed a pretty boy my secret garden and I sipped the devil's poison from a golden cup perfection left me alone and aching and cut me deep on my upper right thigh down my arms across my stomach Sigh. But skin is skin and mine is ugly all the pretty girls tell me so so when you try to tell me you "love" me don't find it strange when I simply say "No."

48

i stand below the line my ribs stand out on their own i am not thin enough i need to be only bone i'll starve the demons out of me purge until they're gone i won't let food touch my lips i've been too big, too long the voices that i hear they tell me i'm not good enough no one will ever love me because i weigh so god **** much ------ i stood below the line they said i was underweight but all i saw was fat and all i felt was hate i cried the demons out of me wept until i was numb i didn't let people see the monster that i had become the voices that i used to hear told me i had to go that if i wanted freedom my blood would have to flow.

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Dec 1, 2014

Dec 1, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC

RhiannonGrace

Below The Line

i stand below the line my ribs stand out on their own i am not thin enough i need to be only bone i'll starve the demons out of me purge until they're gone i won't let food touch my lips i've been too big, too long the voices that i hear they tell me i'm not good enough no one will ever love me because i weigh so god **** much ------ i stood below the line they said i was underweight but all i saw was fat and all i felt was hate i cried the demons out of me wept until i was numb i didn't let people see the monster that i had become the voices that i used to hear told me i had to go that if i wanted freedom my blood would have to flow.

25

All I want today is to give up. I want to stop eating. I want to stop thinking. I want to stand in the snow and let my body freeze until I've burned off every last calorie I want to run until I puke. Then run more. Until the moment comes that I black out Until that empty moment of empty relief comes to me even if it's only a moment. I just want to be free. Because I'm living in a personal hell most days lately I don't even know myself I can't look in the mirror without disgust I freaking hate my stinking guts. I've never hated it so much that I'd rather stay inside. I've never been so ashamed that all I wanted to do is hide. But today that's where I am.

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Nov 11, 2014

Nov 11, 2014 at 10:57 PM UTC

SmileNowSunshine

I need a rock to crawl under.

All I want today is to give up. I want to stop eating. I want to stop thinking. I want to stand in the snow and let my body freeze until I've burned off every last calorie I want to run until I puke. Then run more. Until the moment comes that I black out Until that empty moment of empty relief comes to me even if it's only a moment. I just want to be free. Because I'm living in a personal hell most days lately I don't even know myself I can't look in the mirror without disgust I freaking hate my stinking guts. I've never hated it so much that I'd rather stay inside. I've never been so ashamed that all I wanted to do is hide. But today that's where I am.

25

I'll write to starve She said. I'll eat words, Develop a bulemic Mentality, Purging the words To the page in Nauseating bursts. I'll force it When I have to. I'll write when The hunger pangs Themselves, Start to eat me. I'll sum up calories through Raucous poetry. I'll grow weak As my pen grows strong. I'll write even when My hand shakes Because there's not Enough sustenance. I'll deny my body, And cultivate my mind With measured abundance. I'll shrivel up and Waste away. But the words will stay On the paper. You'll see and say, How can a skeleton write? I'll grip the pen With bony fingers And I'll show you. I'll feed you too.

0

Nov 6, 2014

Nov 6, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC

olivia-mccann

Starving to Write

I'll write to starve She said. I'll eat words, Develop a bulemic Mentality, Purging the words To the page in Nauseating bursts. I'll force it When I have to. I'll write when The hunger pangs Themselves, Start to eat me. I'll sum up calories through Raucous poetry. I'll grow weak As my pen grows strong. I'll write even when My hand shakes Because there's not Enough sustenance. I'll deny my body, And cultivate my mind With measured abundance. I'll shrivel up and Waste away. But the words will stay On the paper. You'll see and say, How can a skeleton write? I'll grip the pen With bony fingers And I'll show you. I'll feed you too.

35