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Mateuš Conrad Dec 2016
sometimes you look at these people and think:
is it better me drinking whiskey, or is it better treating
them ontologically as zoological specimen
                                                  and worth of caging?
i think that the Aristotelian awe-principle
for the practice of philosophy was
overly-exaggerated with dues
that consider science, i think that science
confiscated the emotional
imprint of philosophy that's bound to awe
and said: willcommen unto die phobia-realm...
which i still ascribe to postcolonialism...
  the times' propaganda say:
             arachnophobia is perfectly suited
to match-up to a billionth remark of Islam,
which is why i find Islamophobia so weird...
   arachnophobia consists of only one spider...
minding the phobic in Islam?
                          it's not a case of one spider...
it's a case of spiders...
                             they can't reason with
the Big Brother opportunism, which exists...
turning the blind eye won't help...
  it will simply aggrivate such people...
and using this language has created such
frustrations... correctly? aggravate,
dance of vowels. phobias aren't big, they're small...
miniscule... tell people that something is
small when it's actually big enforcers
a postcolonial past more so...
   i see these children like the psychotic reaction
to a prophesy kindred ot Harold II's slaughter
of the innocents...
                  they're there to edorese someone...
      after all: who gives a **** about these people?
                                                         ­  (endorse)
the psychiatrist gets paid, the mental health nurse
gets paid... why would they give a **** in a way
that says: i wasn't paid for this bollocking!
  maybe up in Manchester... but down here in London,
they don't buy disguises, you're
labelled Romanian: you're bound home where
you could have been a plumber but are reduced
to a straitjacket because: some ******* said
you didn't **** her... Philip Collins and hey:
welcome to paradise.
                        down 'ere in Loon-town you get
your money's worth...      
                   i wish they took care of me...
   silence pays... you get your cringe's worth of ****
to the Kilimanjaro's worth of calling
               bottled crema-foam on a phallus
an anorexia... as i see it: anorexia in Freudian lingo
is an objection toward treating ****** artefacts
in culinary terms... means that paradox
of having a cake and eating it too...
                obviously you'll sexualise problems...
i think anorexia is a question of making
          ****** parts culinary aggregates...
                i'm not jotting: girl, aged, 16, ***-starved..
i mean in general... making ****** objects
equivalent toward a culinary status for a care
to make them more appealing in being ******...
the anorexic might start thinking: so i **** it,
and don't eat it?   penguin clap for an icecream cone!
ruffian yoga minus the slippers and the seal clapping...
the loudest revision of applause: i can guarantee....
cos the flippers were wet... hence the additional
aquatic acoustic.
                    this is very much akin to that quantum
theory of: tornado at coordinate a.,
         and a butterfly as coordinate b.,
          i can see anorexia as a substitute to sexualised
preferences in making body-parts partially edible...
            i see **** i think of the cow's ******-pouch / pillow...
    i don't know, maybe because being in my 30s
i can still fake arousal when looking at it...
       i am not the original alienist... some martian
took my title role...
          but i can understand anorexia as a way to rebel
against putting potato mash and a steak and a few
veggies with the same duty nod as one might put
a ******* object into one's mouth and having to
a Werther's Original suckling tactic on it and
never attach a bone to it, i.e. never eat it...
      anorexia by my standard is verily sexualised...
   you put something into an open space and
it's almost a trans-transgender movement...
      which is why i find the transgender "curiosities"
obstructs in art... post-transgender occupancies
           are not reserved for the easily pleased...
anorexics are such people...
             this is sexuality confused with dietary requirements...
this isn't a circumstance of pronouns politicised
and exploits of modern medicine...
                   i do tend to abuse seafood
whenever i am cringed by the suggested floral pattern
whenever i dare not see the benefits of cesarean...
and i just can't see islamophobia fitting the irrational
rationality of other conscripted phobias...
          poor choice of Greek to be honest...
                      i think they're referring to:
a subtler suggestion, minus the crusading empowerment
that's yet to be honed on...
                        well **** yeah...
once you've actually a philosophy book,
   you'll become immune to any writing advice...
                you'll actually become immune
to advice for writers.... bhy writers... because you'll
realise their opinions are disputable and therefore
disposable... because they forgot that the one thing
that democracy hates... is its subversion,
                     art is the foremost stealth-seeker of
despotism in democracy... because it simply loathes
plagiarism... art is despotism in democracy...
               and it knows it... it's just too "shy" (aah...
wee wee poo poo) to admit it...
                 from what i learned from athos?
the best advice? is to not give any advice.
                    athos? alex dumas, the three musketeers.
the moment you finish a philosophy book,
a creative writing workshop and a quote by
Hemingway will seems as nothing but a bad dream -
these quotes come from people who abhorred
the mere concept of spelling, due and through
it being an "inconvenience"...
this is from people who suggested you were always
an incapable narrator without a daydream to
escape into... these writers began sounding like
your english teachers...
              then again... is sexualising problem better
than abstracting them? personally, and
without due approval: and all the more happy for
such a circumstance having been presented for me...
            we know the sane are too numerous
because they are allowed to make too much sense
of their dreams...
                     i contend anorexia, not as an eating disorder,
but as a disorder of a culinary aversion toward
          sexualising non-culinary objects in culinary terms...
or adding cream to the phallus or melted chocolate
to the ****...
                 i find that certain culinary objects are
oversexualised...
   and this is the norm: that extends into what
quantifies as the norm, for the norm is always
a quantifiable parameter than a qualifiable
      exchange, since an exchange never appreciates
     a qualification, or a grocer's worth of norm
for a conversation of two quid's worth of earning
equates to 20 tomatoes...
    we have assumed to know it all
whereas we are congregating in a plughole
     of close proximity prefixes, i.e.
re-: reflect, reflection, reflexion, reflex,
  reiteration, reimagining, retraction, reaffirmation...
    it's a tsunami of language / lounging with too
many images... it's "lounging" with too many images...
it's the proximity of prefixes... twinned with
the opportunism of the genus of synonyms creating
a deaf-shaft of faking rhetoric...
     i still placard the whole circumstance
a dance of vowels, or the unforced deviation of
keeping up an aesthetic....
                     no, i can't claim schooling,
because i don't want to claim being indoctrinated...
     and perhaps my Freudian is a little-bit
copper-wired / ageist...
                  but isn't food for the anorexic
  a bit like turning a ****** object into food
          for the ennobled aggregational stereotype?
the jokes aren't jokes for anorexics...
  the cucumber is doubly manifest
                         as both edible, as both sexually
arrogant... and thirdly as "inspiration" for
an architectural project...
                      oh **** fame... little albino blondie
can **** on my testicular cancer for all i care...
               and say the bulge was: like
******* on a cowish ******...
                                      i like puppets anyway,
cos i'm a bit laxed in that way...
                         for all the things that might be
given, of the few things that can't be translated
from house or car, or a wife and 3.4 children statistic:
personal integrity.
        obviously certain people can only hum along
to the achievements of a zenith's worth of a house
and a car and a dog...
                            personal integrity is almost too much
for them, such "essential" components of being
a human rather than doing a human reaction
       later involve the cliche of the ultimate gamble...
and we all know how humans love to gamble...
well... few ever manage to gamble the stake of:
a leap of faith... and we all know how Nolan's inception
         ends...           that's me seeing the film a few years later...
      so how does man, the gambler fair
   when he's asked to gamble with the odds
  leap ratioed against a stumble?
                                      numbered is that 10:1?
it's just fascinating that vowels are the sole assured
                        proprietor of "dyslexia",
or as i care to mind: even with a language proficiency...
and tongue-tied waggle that's excusable for
anyone ready to write something down.
      i can appreciate being an individual,
but i can't celebrate it... i'll only utilise my individuality
to create a new plateau, a norm, the most
distinguished liberalism of my individualism;
     i will only utilise my individuality to create a new
norm - and anything that comes against it:
can burn in hell.
Emily Ward Jun 2014
Anorexia is not collar bones.
It is the smell rotting of flesh as you dismantle your body bit by bit.
Anorexia is not a thigh gap, it is your knees so weak they shake as you fall to the ground.

Anorexia is not self control. It is the feeling of utter hopelessness as your life tornados into a blizzard of nothingness.

Anorexia is not fashionable. It is your mother’s sobbing eyes as she sees her child dying
Anorexia is not 80 pounds. It is the weight of a thousand pulsing suns on your shoulders.
A thick black cloud in your mind, and rules spelled out like chains pulling you towards the ground.
No matter what measure of gravity that you have in this earth, it still hurts, it’s still real.
So to you 'pro anas' who so blindly say 'hunger hurts, but starving works' think before you act.
Suffering is an addiction, please do not harm yourself with this affliction.
- *Emily Ward
I wrote this when i was in a unit recovering from anorexia. The main reason for it was to highlight to people who are pro anorexia, the real and disabling effects of this illness. To highlight that it is not a fashion statement or a 'fad' diet.
Ana S May 2017
Anorexia at its finest.
Thin and spineless.
Anorexia at its finest.
Taking away her will to eat.
Yes this is anorexia and its finest.
Let me tell you never once has anorexia give a **** about you.
Or her, him or me.
Anorexia at its finest.
▝ ▙ ▝ ▙ **The preventative, treatment & cure for insomnia and mental illnesses (including the diseases: anorexia & pellagra) is niacin (vit. B3). The thiamine/vitamin B1 deficiency disease beriberi also entails food phobia (anorexia). Research Dr. Abram. Anorexia is a vitamin-deficiency disease. Psychological counseling is as effective w/anorexia as it is w/scurvy (vitamin C deficiency) or cancer/sickle-cell anemia/hypertension (vit. B17 deficiency). You can't talk, or reason, someone out of a chronic metabolic ailment anymore than you can slake a person's thirst by ruminating over their traumatic childhood. Anorexia is a sub-clinical symptom of the vitamin-deficiency disease pellagra. The preventative, treatment & cure is vitamin B3, also known as niacin. Niacin causes a false histamine reaction (prickly, red skin) that's harmless. You can build up a tolerance to niacin or take flush-free niacin. ALL who suffer from anorexia nervosa are deficient in the water-soluble vitamin B3. There is no known toxicity for B3. You won't O.D. on it. Excessive B3 ends up in the *****.
Ana S Apr 2018
Today in an overweight society,
The type of society that deals anxiety,
Anxiety, anxiety, in this overweight society.

Today in an overweight society,
The type of society where diet pills are a normality,
Normality, Normality in an overweight society.

Today in the eyes of an underweight tragedy,
Influenced so greatly by an overweight society,
Tragedy, Tragedy, in an overweight society.

Influenced by a society of fatty foods,
Fear becoming a more common mood,
The fear of falling into the normality
The normality of this tragedy.
The overweight society.

Influence by obesity.
Striving to be what their minds see,
The minds of the children trapped,
Trapped by this overweight society.

Influenced by the skinny girls on TV
Only followed by ads showing fatty foods society demans you eat
Have a cheeseburger, upgrade to a large fry, yet still look like her, it's pounded in her mind.

Young minds believe what they see.
Morphed into the tragedy of society.
A society where eating disorders strive
A society where an 8 year old can consious you starve themselve to feel pretty.
The definition of pretty based simply on TV
Yet nobody questions this more than imperfect society.

Elementary ages childern being fed fat then forced to stand in front of a mirror.
Put a toy in poison and call it magic.
Oh yes, what a fantasy.
A fantasy forcing you into reality.

The reality becoming your worst nightmare.
The reality of your fears driven by society.
I'm overweight, yet pizza is the best choice for a happy family.

A society where mental illness strives.
Why can't people open their eyes?
Spoon feeding childern poison and expecting them to love themselves.

In school teachers force health into thier minds.
At home, parents feed them poison to save time.
Re-creating, reprogramming their fragile little minds, yet still expecting them to feel fine.

Feeling down?
Have a happy meal, gain a pound.
Overweight?
Shame, shame, you must maintain the image.
The image forced into your mind.
           This was our greatest fall.
           Upon dieting we call.
           Skelington stave me.
Anorexia at it's finest.
Anorexia thin and spineless.
Some call you timeless.
But only recently you made your debute.
Make me feel brand new.
Reprogram my mind.
Make me feel fine.
Thank God for thinsperation.
Oh Anorexia, my new inspiration.
Make me feel pretty.
Just like the skinny girls on TV.
Loosing pounds, one by one.
Still weighed down by a ton.
The weight of pleasing it.
The nightmare society created.
Influenced by what we see.
Finally morphed into the tragedy of the normality of this weight obsessed society.
Anorexia will never win.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.do you really need a disclaimer, for this sort of work? no, not really... it's not exactly being allowed the equivalency of dropping an in excess of 2000mg of paracetamol.

the one aspect of legacy media, that still has some viability, akin to rekindling the famous extract from the movie: all the presidents men... is concerns for metal health issues of youngsters, who didn't have, the, "privilege" of being exposed to internet ergonomics, other than within the confines of gaming, they came far too late for, what replaced mp3 sharing.... ideas are not exactly sound-bites of copyright infringement...

**** me... do i really have to slap then punch
myself in the face, to remotely stay
awake while drinking ***** like pepsi
sharpshooters?
     i guess so...

   i too, "suffered" from roman bulimia,
the classical kind...
   don't ask me how i managed to make
the esophagus contender of the heart,
muscle...
                 at first it was cheap choc down
the throat, missing on brushing my
teeth for 48 hours...
   then... ******* down the throat,
like the ****-style gimmick of the Watergate
informant...
       came back up, bundled in quasi turds
packages...
               classical Roman bulimia -
eat, regurgitate, eat some more,
hell, now you have a Pompeii style
banquet of the coming of age...
laxatives?
that's no bulimia...
  bulimia is an extension of an ancient
Roman practice, akin to throwing yourself
****-naked into a nettle shrub area...
to get the "itches"...
     that method, involved in energizing
the neuron extension of the skin...
              it's a "placebo" itch...
   nettles, ancient Romans,
and bulimia like the rite of a loss of
virginity of kings...
      festering at its core... of the French court...
with a *****'s teaching apparatus,
leveraging the use of, a single "tool"...
           and even though the ancient Romans
never reached my people...
i get to abuse their phonetic encoding stratum...
bulimia... sure... i, "suffered" from it...
not really, no... i ******* enjoyed
the regurgitation process...
   anti-Grecian pederasty gimmick...
(a) taking a ****
   (b) oral regurgitation
   imitating an ancient Roman banquet
(c) / (d) ensuring the two entry points
are filled by an external source -
wishing for vanilla custard *******...
none to be...
    oops...
               so no one taught these girls
about ancient Roman bulimic
practices?
   you work on the esophagus...
                       by the time i finished
the transition period...
  i automated the esophagus reaction...
like training gymnastics for a six-pack...
no longer ******* down the throat...
you say charge? i think of
a rhino juggernaut...
           so no one bothered these girls
introducing ancient methodologies
to their predicament?
    no training of the esophagus,
no two (index + middle) fingers down
their throat to ease their larynx from
a gagging order?
    none of it?
   they'll grow out of it!
i did...
       drink a liter of ***** per day
and i'm feeling: shimmy!
          upon each nocturnal investment
that i translate into writing...
      anorexia?
    give them excess coffee...
              or strong cider...
      the most pristine aperitif...
    you can't cure anorexia with either
drips or syringes...
   you need aperitifs...
                     but please don't give them
white vinegar...
           you need a balance of alcohol
overcoming the sugars...
     strong beer is alcohol overcoming
starches... won't work...
     coffee and sugar helps...
  both simulate the pristine form of
the marijuana *****...
             it's not poison...
so why should i care?
   oh but i do care... reading this article...
troubled teenagers dodge Instagtram
   curbs on photos glorifying self-harm
...
ever tried burning out a cigarette tip
on your knuckle?
   ever wondered about
    warming up a hand of scissors and
giving yourself an indie tattoo?
   while at the same time...
relying on the mouse principle?
i.e. remaining pipsqueak clean from
making any noise?!
              cutting is so crass...
so unimaginative...
  you will not achieve the adrenaline *****
status of a stab-victim...
   there is no element of surprise...
but...
     if you really want to ingest pain?
hmm... hmm?
            heat up a scissor arm...
   and put it against your skin...
            and then... EAT... the pain...
with what you can surmount in and with,
silence...
                   cutting is too... dramatic...
at least burning yourself you have
not achieved the stature of a shedding blood...
cleaner, more effective,
think of orange recycling bags
collected at the start of the week...

              **** me though...
you seen the comradely behavior
of competing athletes, at the european
championships in Berlin,
   with the pole vaulters?
   Armand Duplantis -
congratulated for having crossed
the 6m benchmark of respectability...
now... that's sport!
football, soccer, basketball,
call it what you like...
   that's not sport, that's business,
that's advertisement...
     that's concussion cover-ups...

Epke Zonderland? also a doctor...
communist Poland believed in
sport, sport on the side,
   sport was never to reach status
of a mono-career investment...
            most of the local football
players from my hometown,
also worked less hours in
the metallurgy plant...
                  that's sport...
   a healthy balance...
which, mainstream sport is lacking...
oh look...
   the women doing the hammer throw,
or the discus...
   not exactly Vogue / Chanel catwalk
material...
    mandible beauties...

    to be honest? the doping affair
in the Olympic sports?
   but a minor setback of credibility...
     i rather watch that...
   than those pitiable 22 ballerinas in soccer.
Selena burke May 2014
The day I met Ana
Is the day I died.
They day I met Ana
I thought I would survive.
20 pounds to go.
To look like a pro
Ten pounds to go
Are my bones starting to show.
500 the first
400 the next
The calories went down like the fat on my chest.
I started to feel dizzy.
Empty inside.
I started to feel happy
Thinner with more pride.
One bone here.
Another bone there.
My heart was stopping.
It couldn't be more clear.
But Ana loves me.
She'll never stray.
No matter how many go,
I know she's here to stay.
It might cost me health.
It might cost me my life.
But id rather die than be fat.
Skinny is my dream tonight.
I'm still battling anorexia. Nothing matters to me but to be skinny.
Johnny Zhivago Aug 2013
Spanish influenza
walking pneumonia
icepick headache
common cold
whooping cough
Diabetes
anorexia
getting old

flat foot
bad back
heel spur
heart attack
spasticus
autisticus
tongue tied
amb(i)dextrous

my weakness
is my forte
my sickness is  my skill
my illness
is my realness
it makes my life a thrill


Trying to fight this
bronchitis
gangrene
runny nose
frostbite
tooth decay
hat hair
broken bones

bed bound
shell-shocked
flea ridden
sinusitis
cholera
dropsy
eliphantitis
out-all-nightis

wom­b fever
winter fever
black water fever
remitting fever
ship fever
jail fever
camp fever
or schizophrenia

scarlet fever
tuberculosis
American plague
rock n roll
Wheezing
Paralysed
Got gas
In both holes

rabies
scabies
rickets
and SARS
man flu
bird flu
swine flew
from Mars

multiple sclerosis
tennis elbow-sis
stomach ulcers
and leukaemia
night blindness
hypothermia
lung cancer
sickle-cell anaemia

French pox
Lockjaw
Polio
Gout
Nostalgia
Dropsy
Knocked right
Out

Stuttering
Bellyacher
Anti-social
Leprosy
Sleep walker
Sleep talker
Absent minded
OCD

Tourettes, ****
Pyromania
tonsillitis
Conjunctivitis
Food poisoned!
Warted over
My Psoriasis
(Will I survive this?)

Measles
Malaria
Meningitis
Migraine
Scrum-pox
Worm fit
Water on
the brain

apparitions
seeing things
rattly chest
bad breath
la duzi
tormentation
inflammation
black death

measles
malaria
migrane
mumps
leprosy
lice and
leg bone
lumps

kleptomania
bubonic plague
black *****
feeling ****
bone shave
falling sickness
wanna stop
just cant quit

Huntington's and
Parkingson's and
Hare-lipped
Hay fever
Typhoid fever
Glandular fever
Night fever
And Hysteria

intellectual
dyslexia
dysfunctional
family
cancer crab
stillborn twin
bad blood
epilepsy

Parking spot
disabilities
all the wounds in
all the militaries
pity thee with
lost agility
lost babes or
infertility

ear infection
starvation
Hepatitis
E to A
smallpox
chicken pox
cow pox
what a day

tuberculosis
stuttering
panic stricken
star struck
scurvy
shingles
headless chicken
bad luck


paranoid
in the void
premature
*******
stomach ulcers
feeble pulses
chronicled
*******

autistic
gallstones
double-jointe­d
wrists and knees
consumption
bad digestion
quinsy palsy
ticks and fleas

amnesia
typhus
amnesia
heart failure
radiation
cholera
amnesia
bad behaviour

Hypochondriac?
By gosh, no!
Poorly are ye?
‘Fraid so.


nostalgia
        suffer me
wanderlust
suffer me
insomnia
suffer me
loneliness
let me be



god
complex
mother
complex
father
complex
ego
complex

­

its complicated
im superior
its complicated
im inferior
its complicated
im a short man
got ingrown hairs
got a bad tan



im suffering
ocd
im suffering
obesity
im suffering
jealousy
xenophobia
and nosebleeds



stokholm
syndrome
toxic shock
syndrome
got it down
syndrome
irritable bowel
syndrome

yellow nail
syndrome
stevens-johnson
syndrome
restless leg
syndrome
shoulder-hand
syndrome

lambert-eaton
syndrome
mi­ddle-lobe
syndrome
mobius
syndrome
pickwickian
syndrome

post rubella
syndrome
riley day
syndrome
straight back
syndrome
ulysess
syndrome



alcoholics
we are prone
drug addicts
we are prone
mind benders
we are prone
fortune spenders
we are prone



My illness, my illness
My illness is my realness

*Pick it up
Tide it over
Fight it off or
Cave in

Save it
Suffer it
Pass it on
When its Raining

bleed him
restrain him
shave his
head

he went from being
quite well
to being quite
dead.
unfinished but did you bother to the end?
Sia Jane Jan 2014
Diagnosis: Anorexia Nervosa
Status: Recovered.

So my point in writing... am I doing this for myself? Maybe... or to inspire others? Maybe...
Or to simply just show and say, that I am through this. Through what? Through all that growth that you encounter when you truly engage yourself in recovery.
This does not mean I will not grow further, learn more. Develop and engage. It doesn’t mean I have been able to shut the door once and for all on my mental health struggles (I was trying to be as politically correct towards myself using that term).
It means, I trust, I believe, and not naively, that I have done the hard work.
I have stepped outside of the mirror.
I no longer believe I can only live half way, a half life, between sickness and wellness.
It means, I know, I will never, get sick again.
Many may laugh, or shake their heads at that. And yet, what I am writing here is filled with so much faith and trust, that I can be sure of myself. Even if no one else in the world believes it, I do. And I know it, because I have made a choice.
There were some backwards and forwards, to relapses and re-growths, but each and every fall, I chose to learn. I chose to take to therapy. I chose.
I choose life.  And so that means, the commitment to life, to myself, that I will always take the route that leads to more life, or to more hope...


And so getting well. What happened there? Well, after years of self abuse, of anger turned inwards, after trying to destroy myself in every single way possible... I wondered, inquisitively, what would happen if I used all I had learnt in hospital, all the positive energy directed at me, the words my therapist would say to me... I wondered, what if?
That if, turned out to be the most amazing curiosity. It is why I am safe, well, “recovered.” I don’t use the term recovered lightly. I recognise that my whole life will mean being mindful, it will mean self awareness, it will mean vulnerability. But what I am certain of, is that each year that passes, I grow and gain strength in ways I never realised I could.
I use “recovered” because I don’t believe I am “in recovery.” I have done the recovery. I have done the putting food in my mouth, consulting a nutritionist, the ridiculous amount of weight gain that allowed me to be healthy. I am done with the depression, the endless anxiety, the self harm.
I say “recovered” because as Marya Hornbacher writes: “I mean flat-out eat-normally stay-healthy get-comfortable-with-your-body-and-actually-like-it recovery.”
Few believe it exists. In fact, I was told my numerous doctors I would never recover. I would always be chronic. Sick. In need of hospital.
It exists. I know that. Because it exists for me.
Recovering has meant finding a voice, and using it. It means putting food in my mouth, it means seeing friends, engaging in life, seeking out healthy ways of coping when I feel overwhelmed, scared, anxious...


I live.

© Sia Jane
I wrote this 4 years ago, for EDAW (Eating Disorder Awareness Week) It is heavily edited, in that I have chopped two pieces which felt the most important from the rest of the story. Other than that it remains untouched. I hope this can help carry us into February and continue to raise awareness.
Tianah Fisher Apr 2013
A paper with ink that every student hates to do
It’s so annoying when you cant get it
because the teacher didn’t explain to you how to do it so you don’t get it,
but the smart girl in your class said every one gets it,
so the teacher shuts up, but on the inside you want to turn around and scream
“No ones as smart as you!”
but you don’t because you don’t want to be a bother,
but as you sit in your bed you think what the frig
I should have asked,
but in stead of doing my homework I go on something called Facebook
where everyone writes about other people and there problems there having
that no one in the world seriously cares about
so you scroll till you see a fight that is pretty pointless,
but you still get the popcorn and read everything they said
because its better then doing any thing else,
but you see that girl that deals with anorexia
and start to think why does she do that to herself she’s skinny,
I know the mirror can be cruel sometimes,
but she’s beautiful,
she may look unhealthy
and in science instead of looking at the skeleton you look at her
because you can see every bone in her body
because the words people say affected her,
she was healthy,
but people think you need to be **** perfect to be friends or just for them to like you, so she carries this thing that eats her on the inside in pain
with the words that are whispering in the halls,
but then she has that one friend that doesn’t help
she’s to busy wishing for selfish things and too blind to see her friend is dying in front of her,
but instead of saving her she’s wishing for everything
like that new car
and losing weight
and her hair to be longer
and what outfit she’s going to wear tomorrow to impress that guy she has a crush on
and the girl thats been neglected by everyone and everything next to her in the mirror hearing her rant on and on about this she’s wishing I want to be like her,
I want someone to love me like that,
I want friends she always says
I want and I bet it’s the girl in the back of the classroom,
that shy one that sits alone at lunch time
looking around hoping someone will come sit with her
and want to be friends
but it doesn’t happen because everyones too selfish in there own worries and problem to notice their fellow classmates could be crying out for help in front of you but you don’t care because your stuff is to important to help someone else.
always anxious Oct 2014
anorexia you inside of me
hysteria is all you'll ever be.
you're a struggle
and you caused me a lot of trouble
yes you made me skinny
all with that stupid theory
but i'm gonna win in the end
even though you are my only friend

i will not die today
just have to get back what i threw away
i called you my master for way too long
but i just realized where i belong
i have my friends here
and they take away my fear

i might have been close to death
but only beacuse of your stupid threat
"you're gonna get fat"
and then we had the calorie chat
but i'm forcing you to leave
so i can freedom achieve
▝ ▙ ▝ ▙ The thiamine/vitamin B1 deficiency disease beriberi also entails food phobia (anorexia). Research Dr. Abram . Anorexia is a vitamin-deficiency disease. Psychological counseling is as effective w/anorexia as it is w/scurvy (vitamin C deficiency) or cancer/sickle-cell anemia/hypertension (vit. B17 deficiency). You can't talk, or reason, someone out of a chronic metabolic ailment anymore than you can slake a person's thirst by ruminating over their traumatic childhood. Anorexia is a sub-clinical symptom of the vitamin-deficiency disease pellagra. The preventative, treatment & cure is vitamin B3, also known as niacin. Niacin causes a false histamine reaction (prickly, red skin) that's harmless. You can build up a tolerance to niacin or take flush-free niacin. ALL who suffer from anorexia nervosa are deficient in the water-soluble vitamin B3. There is no known toxicity for B3. You won't O.D. on it. Excessive B3 ends up in the *****. Cancer is a disease of deficiency as is thirst & starvation. W/o water we die, no amt. of praying can change that fact of course as the Lord provides, thru His bounty, those things we need to survive. Indeed, Scripture stresses the importance of consuming seeds: "Give us this day our daily bread," was written at a time when bread contained whole, raw seeds--seeds abounding in cancer-killing Amygdalin. ▝ ▙▝ ▙
Ember Evanescent Dec 2014
Psychological issues?

Sure.

I've got plenty.

I don't know exactly when it started
But some time ages ago
During elementary school
I just felt so worthless
Like I was numb
I wanted to feel
But I didn't know how
And it wasn't a sharp pain
I would welcome a sharp pain
It was dull ache that wouldn't leave me
I froze in my own icy thoughts
Maybe it was the loneliness
Or all the things those girls said to me
Maybe it was the insults or the whispers
Or maybe it was just my twisted mind
But whatever the cause
I tried to **** myself
When I was just a little 11 year old girl
When some girls were still playing with Barbies in secret
I was secretly playing with knives and ropes
I would take that blade
And scratch a cut into my wooden headboard
One slit in the wood for every moment that I wanted to die
Because I was too young back then to even think of my wrist
That came later
A few years later
And still
There are days where I just feel so horrible and sad and broken
For absolutely zero reason
It doesn't make sense
Nothing bad is even happening
But I feel shattered
I spent a year feeling so. hollow.
So f!cking hollow
I felt like I couldn't breathe
Like I wasn't alive
I spent entire days
Not speaking
I still miss the cuts sometimes, honestly
I like my scars
Which sounds terrible
But I trace them with my fingernails absentmindedly some days
During the darker nights
It comforts me
Because even though I’m not going to cut myself ever again
I can jolt myself into remembering the pain
And it is a form of relief in itself
I don’t know
Not something I can explain
Is that depression?
Probably not though, I feel bad suggesting it in front of people who actually for sure have depression when I haven't been analyzed
But still, it's not impossible I guess

I spent 5 years
From grade 5 through to grade 9
Which is pretty **** young
Feeling fat
Hating my body
Hating myself
I can see my ribs but I still feel fat
It’s okay I can fix that
Eating a little less
Skip a meal
Just skip lunch
Just eat a tiny breakfast, no lunch
No breakfast, no lunch but it’s okay because I have a good dinner
I think I’m losing weight
Is it bad that I’m in grade 5 and thinking like this?
This is great
I think it’s working
I’m in grade 6 now
Maybe I won’t be worthless if I become skinny
I can still see my ribs
I could from the beginning
But I still feel fat
Okay, less dinner now
Hide it well
Let’s switch
No lunch, a little dinner and a bit of breakfast
Just enough to stay alive
Although how much to I really want to stay alive?
Fat.
Look at my legs
Look at their legs
My thighs God I hate my thighs
Eat less
Eat less and less
Until I’m basically surviving on snacks and just the beginnings of each meal
Just enough to take a few bites before they leave the room for a minute
Just long enough for me to throw away my food
But I don’t think I’m losing weight
I will never be enough
7th grade
Just a little less
Don’t tell any of them
Losing pounds
Check my reflection
I still feel fat
I try to be less so I can feel like I’m more
But does the number on the scale even matter anymore?
I’m promising and promising I ate before I came
But these pretty little lies are driving even me insane
And they can’t see through my smile they can’t figure it out
I’m slowly killing myself
From the inside out
Pretty soon, “I don’t feel well” is my favorite phrase and an everyday thing
A justification for my small portions that I don’t finish
It’s true though
I don’t feel well
I feel worthless.
It continues into 8th and 9th grade
Worse and worse
Looking up the calories of different food
Surviving on water and tea
Just enough food to stay alive
Though I really don’t care that much about my own survival, really
Is that anorexia nervosa?
I doubt it
But it’s a possibility I guess

I look in the mirror
And I feel so f!cking ugly
I literally cannot find ONE thing I like about myself
I cannot leave the house without makeup
Because I am SO ashamed of my own face
I genuinely feel bad for the people who have to see my face
I cry sometimes, because I look in the mirror and see my own worthless hideousness
I remember that sleepover I was invited to with the popular girls and I wondered why
When I got locked in a closet, got soap sprayed in my mouth and locked outside in the freezing cold snow without pants on when I was just trying to change into my night clothes
That’s when I knew I had been invited just so they could torment me
I don’t like being the entertainment for the party
I tried to just go to sleep because if I called home I would look like a coward
And my mother who NEVER let me go to sleepovers would get to say “I told you so”
And when they thought I was asleep
But I wasn’t
I listened to them talk for a full hour
My eyes on the clock
My ears on their conversation
“Is she asleep”?
I didn’t know they were talking about me until I heard them mention my name
When they talked for a full f!cking hour
In detail
About why I was ugly
On what levels I was ugly
The degree of my ugliness
I didn’t cry
I didn’t sit up and tell them I could hear them
It would be too humiliating
I listened
And I know they are right
But now it’s getting bad
My face doesn’t even look human to me anymore
It looks like some sort of beastly troll’s face
It looks f!cking hideous
My mother is worried about me
Because I can’t even look myself in the mirror when I have no makeup on
Because I Freak. Out when it is suggested that I might have to be in public without hiding my ugly face in makeup
It literally affects my ability to function properly in everyday life.
The thing is, those girls said it
And they ALL agreed
So if I REALLY had dysmorphia
Then it would all be in my mind
And if they all agreed I was hideous
Then I must be
So how can it be imagined?
I don’t know
Anyway
My point is
I suppose
MAYBE
It is possible
I have dysmorphia

But
Depression
Anorexia Nervosa
Dysmorphia

Those possible diseases of the mind
I
Have multiple
Psychological issues

BUT OCD IS NOT F!CKING ONE OF THEM

How dare he suggest such a thing
Just because I
“Always seem to be working towards something”
Excuse me for not getting drunk and high and naked
Putting off work
Not caring about anything
It’s not OCD though
It’s just called going somewhere in life
Because I may as well
Since in my mind
I’m hopelessly lost
Sorry this is so long. Don't feel any obligation to actually read the whole thing it's more for me to get out some bad emotions.
Erin Jul 2021
How dare you feed your shadow and bind your rulebook with the cells of my brain, the tissue of my heart and the calories of my existence.

How dare you tear down my home. How dare you throw away the cushions of my stomach, tear down the curtains of my hair, destroy the pillars of my legs. Until all that was left was the cold brick. an empty house. A hollow heart, a bedridden passion for life.

You ate my muted screams and my broken dreams. Slower, no slower, chew slower. Don’t eat too quick. Weigh that, no! Weigh it again, the scales could be wrong so round it up, log it, 200 left for dinner. Please just let me eat, please give me peace.

Dog-earing her rulebook and breaking its osteoporotic spine. Feeding my life, furnishing my home.
Tori Gadney Apr 2013
I stopped eating.
Anorexia is becoming
Of me as I push away
The heaps of food
In front of me
Holding onto my sides
Out of hunger.
I closed my lips to
The lies devised
To blind me of the
Truth I so clumsily
Sought and desired
Once upon a time.

I stopped eating.
Choosing instead to
Mindlessly draw
Scenarios of simpler
Days where the sun
Is warm and the
Nights quite inviting.
Sheepishly holding
Back on words I would
Sooner choke on than
Spat out to those
Who hand fed me all
Those times before.

I stopped eating.
Trying hard not to
Give in to the
Temptation of just
One little snack
Before bed to help me
Sleep more soundly.
Stopped absorbing the
Fuel that keeps society
Running on a tire
About to go flat as
It runs its course
Raw.

I stopped eating.
Because this
Anorexia of sorts
is becoming of me.
MD Apr 2016
Hi, my name's Anorexia

That's not my birth name
But that's what people know me as -
The skeleton walking through the hallways
Emotionless eyes and burning wrists

Hi, my name's Anorexia

The girls ask me,
"How many calories did you eat this week?"
I rattle off the numbers
They think it's a game

Hi, my name's Anorexia

My favorite hobbies include:
Fainting
Heart palpitations
Hospital trips
And weekly blood drawings

Hi, my name's Anorexia

And im dying
Jackeline Chacon Aug 2014
Hello my name is Anorexia
I will make you an obsessive freak
You will hate yourself
I will make you hungry and weak

I will turn your meat to bones
You will lose excessive weight
You must be super skinny
Food you must hate

Skinny is perfect
So your diet is strict
You live struggling
Because you are an addict

Do not eat breakfast
The scale numbers matter
Do not eat lunch
Do not get fatter

I promise to make you beautiful
I am your best friend
I will make you so skinny
Even if your life might end
Lux Nov 2020
Watching yourself in the mirror crying,
knowing you are slowly dying.
Starving yourself to be skinny,
feeling really ignominy.

Trying so hard to lose weight,
not even remembering when you last ate.
Losing control of yourself,
finally understanding you really need help.
Food is now your biggest nightmare,
losing your beauty, hair by hair.

Recovery doesn't happen overnight,
but believe me it is worth the fight.
Keep trying until you get there,
some people will truly care.

Giving up is not an option,
just show me the real emotion.
Your feelings are valid there is no doubt,
don't be scared and let it all out.
Liv Nov 2011
Counting calories, telling lies
She'll keep this up until she dies.
Empty eyes, empty stomach, empty heart, empty mind;
What I've become is enough to drive myself mad
Empty, empty, empty. I'm nothing but sad.
So here it is girls, the rumors were true
I try so hard to be as skinny as you.
A monster, A *******, empty, empty girl;
I'm killing myself with my poor mental health.
Starving for beauty, beauty is pain
My head hurts so bad, I'm going insane.
Clutching my ribs, my thighs caving in
They were right--
Anorexia wins.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
apparently it's not even crossword! the tagging, the aghast timing, but you didn't care about me, so why, should you be treated as Aleppo? why?! join the queue and please... shut, the ****, up! you didn't care about me... you think i'll care about you? no. no! hashtag that if you please; oh sorry, the world is cruel, hence the Arctic and Prince Harry: chequer or the check check chequers or simply Croat checkered math and the chess board... nonetheless: #likeigiveashithaha*

#love                         #life
#sad                               #pain
#depression                    #poetry
#death              ­              #poem
#thoughts                     #you
#heart                        #heartbreak
#sadness          ­                #hurt
#hope                             #broken
#lost                                   #loss
#alone                                                  #ha­te
#haiku                                       #beryldov
#happy                              #relationship
#10w ­                                                #nature
#me                                       #dark
#beauty                                      #time
#suicide­                                      #words
#romance            ­                   #happiness
#fear                                                 ­  #relationships
#depressed                                    #lon­ely
#night                                          #anxiety
#god­                                                #***
#soul       ­                                        #dreams
#feelings                                          #truth­
#memories                                     #lust
#girl                                                 #wikipedia
#friendship                                           #writing
#dream                                          #passion­
#breakup                                            #light
#ange­r                                          #peace
#family        ­                                         #friends
#him                                                    ­  #mind
#music                                                 #self
#eyes                                                      ­      #poems
#stars                                              ­    #her
#darkness                                               ­       #people
#sleep                                            ­      #world
#change                                             ­   #beautiful
#past                                              ­ #moon
#rain                                                      ­           #lies
#tears                                                     ­            #boy
#help                                                       ­ #loneliness
#poet                                          #kiss­
#friend                                                         ­   #sun
#war                                                     ­ #art
#freedom                                                 #smile
#sorrow                                                #em­otions
#i                                                      #s­hort
#regret                                                    #­heartache
#desire                                              #h­ome
#fire                                                #faith
#­abuse                                                            ­#forever
#reality                                                ­   #longing
#goodbye                                         #future
#new                                                #drug­s
#society                                                       ­   #free
#personal                                        #summer­
#missing                                                        ­               #blood
#story                                                    ­          #memory
#crush                                         ­          #joy
#emotion                                            #live
#t­rust                                                      #ocean
­#the                                                             ­      #song
#cold                                                      ­ #inspiration
#unrequited                                         ­           #sorry
#gone                                          ­                 #winter
#silence                                                 ­                             #space
#sky                         ­                                             #addiction
#dead                                                           ­        #distance
#tired                                                 ­           #miss
#confusion
#strength
#empty                     ­                                   etc.
#freeverse
#cry          ­                                                                 ­       #rhyme
#selfharm                                          ­             #religion
#mother                                                ­           #spirit
#scared                                                  ­            #sweet
#lovers                                       ­                         #of
#water                              ­                                    #sea
#universe               ­                                      #heartbroken
#youth                                              ­              #insanity
#humanity                                ­                                    #fall
#confused              ­                                          #heaven
#childhood     ­                                                   #hell
#thought­                                                              #bo­dy
#alcohol                                                      ­                #end
#deep                                       ­                        #prose
#drunk                                                    ­    #day
#old                                                    ­                #earth
#crazy                                    ­                        #break
#up                               ­                                         #metaphor
#flowers      ­                                                    #school
#man ­                                                              #nostalgia
#human                                                ­                   #morning
#woman                                             #****
#thinking                                                  ­    #boyfriend
#good                                             ­         #fight
#feeling                               #true
#why                                                       ­   #father
#funny                         #fantasy
#angry                                                  ­          #lover
#demons                                         ­      #together
#grief                                              #wi­sh
#mental                                                       ­              #struggle
#crying                                                ­   #random
#blue          #angel
#dance                             ­                                    #need
#wonder                                                    ­  #care
#despair                                                 ­                                #fun
#word              #and
#want                         #in
#insomnia                                                    ­       #philosophy
#spring                       #melancholy
#falling                    #us
#reflection          ­                                   #jesus
#children                #power
#waiting                  ­                        #young
#child                            ­                                                  #black
#fate   ­                                                                 ­#betrayal
#to        #boys
#real                                 ­                                                 #perfect
#hopele­ss                #bad
#scars                                    ­                                                #strong
#a       ­            #trending
#romantic                                              ­     #storm
#travel                                             #questions
#inspirational                      #women            ­                 #dying
#ex                            #recovery
#nothing         ­                                                        #evil
#tragedy                                             #suicidal
#living                                            #aut­umn
#forget               #fake                     #journey
#cutting                     #gay
#on                                            #wisdom
#vers­e                                                 #coffee
#my                          #nameless                   ­             #first
#humor                           #sonnet
#hatred                                                  ­               #work
#acceptance                             #numb
#lyrics                                                    ­   #no
#lips                                         #like
#write                                                     ­     #feel
#die                                     #secrets
#innocence                                              ­  #mystery
#healing                                              ­#girls
#escape                                        #remember
#­imagination                             #wind
#suffering                                                 ­    #one
#poets                                 #spiritual                #******
#touch                         ­               #marriage
#teen                            #forgiv­eness
#illness                            #hellopoetry107
#magic ­                                       #idk
#depressing          ­                                  #she
#emotional                ­                      #sin
#skin             #leave                   #alive
#madness                                             #mom
#growth                            #leaving
#not            ­                               #simple
#adventure                                               ­  #ghost
#cute                 #****                   #writer
#ourtwobodiesintoonepinkcasket
#money
                   ­                                             #lew
               ­         #red
#meaning                                           ­   #seasons
#mine                                                ­    #stress
                               #lie
                                                            ­       #smoke
                                    #dad
#prayer
         ­                                                                 ­    #doubt
#trees
                                               ­ #city
                            #age
                         ­                                            #flower
                             #guilt
                                                  #hearts
­                      #wrong                    #destruction
    ­                                    #high
                      #­sick                               #star
#jealousy
                                                 ­    #courage
                   #myself
                                                   #girlfriend
           #snow
                                        #letter
#drowning  ­                                                 #existence
#over
                                                ­   #moving
#violence                        #destiny                ­ #frustration
                           #insane                         #afraid
#separation                        #history
#pride       ­                                    #birds
            #clouds                                       #go
#devil                                  #ink
#never          ­                                      #soulmates
          #grace­                                           #laugh
#lesbian
                #lgbt                            ­   #forgotten
#nightmare
                #hands                     ­                          #rage
        #horror                                #stay
#done
­                        #mistakes                                ­     #harm
          #honesty                                       #control
        #different             #burn            #is         #failure
#breath                            #stupid         #growing     #breathe
                   #food                                    #politics
#comfort      ­                  #believe
#worry
                               ­             #senryu
#spokenword                                 ­                #humour
#secret      #for         #parents
#away                       #baby
#loving #voice #think
#poetfreak               #christmas
#misery              #bliss #identity
#left
#mad
#question
                            #mirro­r #promise
#movingon #emptiness
                                               #positive #motivation
#long
                                               ­       #best
#cut
                                               ­                                    #****
                                     #iloveyou
#anorexia #please
                                                         ­             #late
#cigarettes #confidence #problems
                                                       ­ #****** #what #tree
                               #bitter #shadow #understanding
#present
                                         ­              #agony
                     #men
                                        #hard #queen #purpose
#revenge #america
                                                #color #weird
                                                       #white #irony
#bed #birthday
                                                       ­      #books #angels
                            #monster #eternity
                                                      #­drinking #10words
                                     #choices #dont #angst #cancer
                       #infatuation #always #solitude
                       #couple #everything
                                                 #muse #perfection
                                #choice #shame
                              #**** #fly #imagery
                       #blind #soulmate #christian
                           #quote #rose
                                       #nightmares
                    #it #patience #quiet #inlove
#spilledink #battle
                                    #be #trapped #rejection #teenager
#artist #college #feminism #moments
#pleasure                                      #breakups­
#out
#daughter                              #ugh
#moment        ­                          #stop                 #disorder
#air             #know                  #weather
#kids                    #waves  ­              #warmth
#king                                  #gam­e
#upset            #beach               #colors
#****                      #cheating                    #­respect
#ache        #chaos            #laughter
#better         ­                       #fighting
#disappointment                 ­          #poison
      #chance                   #all                   #dreaming
#unknown                            #see
            #s­unset                          #head        #couplet
#advice     ­                          #brain
                     #original                    #okay
                       #divorce                 #gratitude
                    #run      #brokenheart      #hello­
              #kisses         #creativity
   #weak                   #science                 #experience
            #humans             #book      #eternal     #imissyou
#today              #greed
                #bestfriend ­          #sunshine
                                                    #fe­ars
                                         #regrets
                 #sensual                            #tagalog
                    ­#calm                    #social
                  #lovepoem     ­   #bird
                              #honest            #reyna
Petrichor Mar 2023
Lost hair-am bold soon,lost bone mass-fracture when I sneeze,lost friends-well..had no to begin with,lost muscle mass-cannot stand,lost ***** functions-they teamed up and decided to strike,lost years-twenty to be correct,lost the ability to chew-the jaw bone gave up,lost dreams- only nightmares remained,lost strength- not capable to move my head from the pillow,lost weight-it is the same as the weight of a puppy,lost  brain cells-obviously otherwise I would not pursue self destruction ,lost sleep-kept awake by hunger,,lost my period-so no little baby girl Hazel,almost lost life multiple times…lost the promise of a bright future.
Athena Sep 2015
"I love food too much to be anorexic.
Thats the thing,
Anorexics love food.
But with anorexia,
Food is no longer,
Texture,
Smell,
Warmth,
Energy,
Taste.
Food becomes numbers,
Calories,
1000.
800.
600.
200.
Until Calories,
Become chemicals.
Sugar Free Jelly,
Pepsi Max,
Low fat ice-cream.
...
NOTHING.

Anorexia is not about a love,
It is about a hate.
An over-whelming hatred.
For your body,
For your faults,
For yourself.

Starving is merely a symptom.
Too many work out sessions is merely a symptom.
Your thoughts are a poison.
Not your acts."

My name is Athena Grace and I have battle anorexia for 4 years.
I am 16 years old.
At the age of 12 years old my idea of beauty was constructed into something toxic.

On my 12th birthday I was 5'2 and a beautiful 134 pounds.
On my 13th birthday I was 5'3 1/2 and a sliming 112 pounds.
On my 14th birthday I was 5'5 and a stick thin 100 pounds.
On my 15th birthday I was in the hospital. I was 5'5 1/2 and 89 pounds.
On my 16th birthday I was 5'6 and 118 pounds.
I am halfway to my 17th birthday and I am 5'7 feet tall and 105 pounds.
I was getting bad again.
I refuse to get bad again.
I am my own savior, and that is what I have learned.
I will recover.
I will never look at food like you do, but that is okay.
The thiamine/vitamin B1 deficiency disease beriberi also entails food phobia (anorexia). Research Dr. Abram Hoffer. Anorexia is a vitamin-deficiency disease. Psychological counseling is as effective w/anorexia as it is w/scurvy (vitamin C deficiency) or cancer/sickle-cell anemia/hypertension (vit. B17 deficiency). You can't talk, or reason, someone out of a chronic metabolic ailment anymore than you can slake a person's thirst by ruminating over their traumatic childhood. Anorexia is a sub-clinical symptom of the vitamin-deficiency disease pellagra. The preventative, treatment & cure is vitamin B3, also known as niacin. Niacin causes a false histamine reaction (prickly, red skin) that's harmless. You can build up a tolerance to niacin or take flush-free niacin. ALL who suffer from anorexia nervosa are deficient in the water-soluble vitamin B3. There is no known toxicity for B3. You won't O.D. on it. Excessive B3 ends up in the *****. Cancer is a disease of deficiency as is thirst & starvation. W/o water we die, no amt. of praying can change that fact of course as the Lord provides, thru His bounty, those things we need to survive. Indeed, Scripture stresses the importance of consuming seeds: "Give us this day our daily bread," was written at a time when bread contained whole, raw seeds--seeds abounding in cancer-killing Amygdalin.
cr Aug 2014
i am lonely in a
body that has wasted
my skin to paper stretched
against collar bones and
my ribcage won't stop
trembling

i am isolated in a
body which hyperventilates
when it nears all things
sweet or salty or sour
or good because the weight
wrestling in the pit of my
stomach suffocates me

i am alone in a body
that aches for untouching,
unbruised skin and hair so
thick it'll never fall again but
it cannot give that to me any
longer because that would
mean i cannot be sick

i am in a body
that refuses to love me back
sometimes my body gets really sick. inspired by the quote "i'm alone in a body that can't love me."
I was captured by her grasp.
A cruel disease
As my stomach howled and shrunk to the emptiness
She laughed as my body got sick and less strong.
I tried to force her away.
The "disease of the mirror"
This goddess was too evil to be drawn out.
As I shrunk in size and grew weak to her calling.....
I screamed in pain, silently.
As I never thought people would understand why I was falling.
I was caught as I dropped to the floor...A broken male ragdoll.
As skinny as a puppet and unable to admit his defeat....
Those who cared for me most had picked up my remains..
Brought them in for repair.
Now this "evil temptress tries and tries" to "Over take the new me."
As I still must remain in the supportive eye of those who know how to tame her....
They make sure I never disappear into "thin" air.
As this broken Male still looks onward for a more permanent solution to his "Mealtime" dilemma....
He thanks those who cared for him, came forward, and pushed him into "Class."
Now, to honor all for their belief in me, I press onward to find the right school to add to their" class alumni...."
I thank those friends well known and strangers to "society."
As I shall stay strong with hope. As "Mrs. Anorexia" shall never get the best of this supported and stronger soul...
I shall never fall back into her grasp and shall never give in..
To be her victory as she watches me slowly die.
A poem about my dealings with Anorexia. My blessings and light to those still finding their way back....This is a long journey.From sickness to wellness. It is worth the win. As you shall stay strong, get back to being the beautiful you, and not disappear to the force that is this illness.
always anxious May 2015
You ask me, what anorexia is like.

It's like slipping or twisting your ancle without anyone seeing, no one to help you up.
You sit until someone comes by, they help you up, but after a while you slip again.
This time your sitting in mud and slowly sinking into it.
And when you're two feet into that hole, a person comes by and tries to help you since your anvle is hurt.
But you're afraid they'll fall too so you ask them to leave.
You start to crawl out and finally get up, but slip again.
You fall down in that hole again, and this time you beoke your entire leg.
It starts raining and the hole grows deeper.
It's 5 feet deep now.
One of your well known friends comes by and tries to help you, but ends up throwing you a shovel.
But actually you start to like your hole, you take contact to people, who also fell into a hole.
There are sites on the internet, some shows how to get the deepesr mist perfect hole.
Other shows how to get up.
But you're sad, and you like your hole, so you try to get that deepesr one.
You want to win this, you wanna show everyone who called you weak that you can get the deepest hole in the world.
But when you're 20 feet under ground, and everyone starts to notice your hole.
Everyone is willing to help you.
And suddenly you have 20 shovels, and 20 stairs.
But you can't decide wich one is better.
*That's what being anorexic is like
Lauren Jul 2019
By. Lauren

Anorexia why must you return to me so soon?
I look in the mirror and see you now.
I thought you were gone.
Why must you come home?
My body was getting strong once more.
Feeling so happy again.
Then you came home.
My body knew no better but to let you back in.
You moved into the chemicals of my brain.
You changed me to satisfy yourself.
Anorexia I just want to be alone.
I once found a home in the foods I wanted to consume.
But now anorexia I can't seem to find a home in my own body.
You have eaten me raw.
All skin and bones no fat to call my home.
No room for a lover all that I can host is you.
You've made my body a structure I can not keep up.
A frame with no foundation.
Anorexia this is not who I'm meant to be.
You're not supposed to be.
Not with me.
We're not meant to be.
I know we once got along.
The two of us looking beautiful in that red dress.
The compliments we ate up as our only protein for the day.
"Oh you're so thin," they would say.
Anorexia I don't want to be with you anymore!
I feel like I'm breaking.
I'm sick of watching my weight.
5'2 and 40 pounds under.
Anorexia this is not how I'm supposed to be.
Just let me be.
Not you and me.
Just me.
Let ME be.
Set of cave genes If you could read... pluri freedoms of the dark light of ignorance teach understand that breathe under the Naturality Natural Nature is not necessary to have an understanding heart and store on their empty heads of knowing ancient rain where wisdom possess. If dance on every grain of chickpea for each foot plant what could a plant obey; foot, Plant, and Plantation...

Resulting in kingdoms on my animals, fungi, plants, and protists, media freedom as a seed to reach our evolutionary lack of ceased hopeness...

First  Ellipsis Angle loneliness"God felt Chained"

Chained down by dragging the last link of its multiple arcane freedom in which transfigured recent swings where he collapsed with the latter being of himself whose life lies lifeless alive but lost. The latter that child not to know and deprived of nascent freedom that will never be born and come knowledge in our genome of Independence.

When the caveman thought to be a complement to the world is enslaved by the mystery of lost in himself... The born and born, never dies, that's so naive and innocent... is still full unaware of their free will, rather it is he who must re-literate and be a living part of the ancestral genome Cavernario component. Oh Heavenly Lord of the steppes I look because more of you today without having lived what you lived, as he would have played with my gaze to succor and keep you had fallen into the fangs of an animal, or you had fallen on the glacier cliff where he has separated you from your Clan Cave.

Emancipation means to be always innocent, my blood runs through yours,
I read and understand any phenomenon of deprivation exist without you lack wisdom satiate if all your generations crushed by the ignorance of falling subject will be well, me and my being I take my precognitions as a tormented child's worst nightmare before about sleeping. Sixth Papal almost, almost kneel before the creation of memorizes creation. This prerogative Lord lives Bread’s God Minor remaining....of whose iconography will not leave this fifth fraternal dimension will not come, if not more will enter the latter end of absolute solitude... and shorter than the last thousand years of Neandertal.


Cavernary Political and Ellipsis:

On a day of gentle wind and tense rain proclaiming Clan joined, they all shouted running, the ground shook and the children slept in terror... the 10 infants who were talking about the Sign from above, but the nines they crossed his arms remaining to create solidarity roof that protects the man in your imagination...
The eighth child of the clan ran quickly into the arms of his mother and she imagined how far, how far would never come... uncharacteristically who came with his brother seventh had in their hands the word of entertainment of Being, to be a plaintiff political all of braiding them together with lines enabling the hermit may decide that creation is a mass of lines of certain fashions together, everything sings like the slightest cyclamen dew on the line pointy rough fallen fungus. All arms folded on the upper porch of the Vatican Macario in Franconia, saying that many who unite in their fevered requests large modern man ceased to be autonomous when it came out of their caves and charnel pit.

Ran all she enjoyed doing that almost without knowing whether or not they fall...
Ran because of every day the sun ahead of them a lesson for a man of the future...
They are running to be released the day of his birth chained to stars of light, to carry him to his mother and father, sneaking to his brothers.

Brother worn eleventh birth to her existence as another being evolved Eukaryotic: Surely those provided beings of cell membranes rhizomes reflected in higher liberty lives purged of ectoplasm walk without a discounted subsidiary. Shakespeare in Helsingor appeared immune to a blood brother to all that limits the Draconian feel in the pinnacles drawn 700 greened steeds. From the deepest swoon in the underworld subway Helsingor, follow the prevailing souls presided over by the great ear of the hard sandcastle, stressed hard Ghosts of Stratford upon Avon.

Freedom plague spits words of pancreatic poisoned exordium, spits verses of confusion disorders without permission, without solid bass sound without liquid sea that resists mad edges followed by solid sound...
But smaller stones give priority to conjugate final sentence and noble verses Guardian
to mission how important would Liberation:

Maybe it's a synonymy of Astral Solar...
It is not Solitude, is a free nation that has its own kind prosecutor's office for even when Euthanasia closes your eyes to the astral, will run the stones of the Sea of joy believing that neither you dare if there is no healthy grass to clarify the rainy day terror.


Reverse walk creeks aggravated birds feet, walking great playful ruse.
Reverse run my comrades preparing festivity meals with chandeliers and singing lay plenary., Singing Avenue pine port Firenze, Second run subtracting minutes and hours the minute is enough for me with your face in my arms to recognize your longevity anathema times oblique faces for lip-smacking hailstones Templars.

In 1297 in northern Italy nearby rural families migrate to chalky Venice, Perugia came the exiles walked to find their independence south of the Iberian Peninsula. They were so atoned as in the echoing flutes, harps, zithers, and harpsichords field temperate; They invited the blunting of intemperate monocordio.

Golden Chariot Carrenio

The golden carriage carrying them came without a single space rather than inheritances acquired goldsmiths of ancient noble and chaste solid shine. Carrenio; the coachman wore on his left arm bracelet thousand mobile travel without stopping to drink more water and to feed their horses. After revamping its gold pieces bartered by a slave who was getting Carrenio Christians fleeing the Romans. Well, they fled as far as the plains of great earthly squandered his memory and that end of the end should come.

How am away from my land more I learn it's back to her,
There is no ground for the first time, but that which is foreign
Carrenio of Perugia and sensed that ****** was Jewish ashes,
Luther King black paste of burnt forest,
Mandela and Biko Ogre garage from Victorian Empire,
Gandhi in his humility is always put behind the Sun
to figure out the small
Tagore trashed my heart caressing the entire universe uncorrupted
Hölderlin together in the cabin waiting for his mother at Zimmerman,
That my beloved Borker forest should shine gold teeth with black resin,
Theresa of Calcutta was eaten and swallowed all diseases lepers knowing good taste proverbial dessert psalm,
Jose Miguel Carrera was more than a trench, clay bullets in each of his temples where he received
To be doubly Lonco is to be halved, lacerated by lay his head on his land, not galloping on his back throngs of wit and hope out Nazareth trembles when an F-16 diluted ***** covering landless caravans Heritage continues to lead the people killed but the mosque wall has been Fe Erecta.
Helena plenipotentiary Kowalska at Vilnius, Faustina Divine Mercy Diadema
The agonizing deprivation of millions of people with cancer in every continent of private well-being analgesic, weighed down by increased pain, almost as strong as the Master Hammered Golgotha, so it was that Joshua has cancer always to slow it down on us. Benigno whether metastasis, malignant albeit benign finance.
The death of an innocent little angel devoured by the beast remains as a fluff hairless sardine in the jaws of a shark baron.
Khalil Gibran writes that with both hands to support the reviewer behind in Bicharri and bohemian Paris,

Salvador Allende Gossens was born since he was deceived by his parents who would heal politics, would rather dig their ancestors in their brains scattered in the currency in face seal or tail of.

Frei Montalva that today has to receive the Macro Augusto Heaven their arms, their sorrows, and regrets, although his worst military executioner.

Legion is an offshoot of liquid central gray material, which defers well done becoming but not defeated, it is the decree of the divine threshold space Living or ceases to live, that failure does not exist, it is the postponement of success - success.

The Genocide September 11 in New York was a ritual, who produced was a small wrath strength of the Rotary world, as the camshaft is upset in the history of trying to make more alphabet in schools where the flag hoisting and found scholars in West and East, so they can learn more than reading of both unlettered, lip and water to possess it to write with it. The worst disaster is read with the memory that will never happen... I write my greatest need with lipstick and my greatest need I write eagerly to participate. Yesterday I passed by a boutique and buy lipsticks that are closer to the language, written with the mouth and not the hand. !

Freedom, debauchery, libration, drawer, Bookstores..! Carrenio..: he said see I'm right! Raise and educate has a great synonymy with autonomy because the ancestors wrote everything that deprived them and made them fear, but do not have to eat the autumn gives me to dress the return of spring, bread orchid, and cineraria. Hence by that inner syllabic singing hunger sated that sought sheet to sheet rid of everything until the end of the book as the encounter between night and day without considering oblivious to anything or anyone on the track window swing wind, wind seeping.


It was old Zeus or Hera of Antique,
Cavern to house geometric polyphonic, angular seeds to create fashions kiss kissed everything that any vertical plane does not fit with the closed horizon
For hands and angels, Hebrews the inner soul of every carpenter and stonemason shrunk, wash their eyes and cheeks with songs of vibration and idyllic comfort,
Everything resembled and sounded Bethlehem 2.0 deities choirs sweeping grasslands,
The similarity of this clairvoyant child is born in a cave...
Rising motherly free Soliloquy Papini sitting to the right of ruminant cattle,
So archaic that to be born is not born in a clinic mega Cristus but hundreds of kilometers and hundreds who are born with the undergirding whispers and servitude being.
Where the multi gray impetuous born star is a healthy gauze story in the present tense... this angelic child grows by Miriam washes his feet in a belligerent abolished stone. His father must wash their hands on a stone which is where measured his ecclesiastical mystical stature, stone Madonna to heal his feet where he leaves to free himself, to free us... Marble gamete fémina vault, where he sleeps without knowing whether it is due, the ***** fell from the sky.
How wise is the Wise, it makes permissible for much more than two thousand years we stone quarry wheel and wheel, homily, and blessing to not wake at night to sleep startle middle and uphill.

Me of the referent of antiquity is not me of today is polished cobble stone,
Useful weapon quarry road there and backtrack to have blisters stone and soft thoughts under my pillow soft stone as a whole.

If you're ****** private living and have a free soul choosing coexist, then you are low in the cemetery on a tombstone of heresies.

Neolithic early 4500 after Hildegard von Bingen and his entourage and prowled full and channeled, swooning in her swoon with flowers in his hands and his followers planting forests on top of Stonehenge.

Carrenio says...: you see I'm right, we coexist, I die like the worst ****** cancer and then put a tombstone Stonehenge conspire in my honor black pain prayers of Salisbury. It blooms in vibrant red rubies that detonate in chromaticity and life. The stream itself is exceeded the aquatic plant Macarenia.

Call us and civilize us, outdated as far as my tired feet though I come not ashamed to see my new tracks.

Carrenio says...; see I'm right Joshua has traces of gold from other Caterpillar shod feet. Antique everything is prescribed according to their legacy today is Lent Pro that came before it was Lent vestige Pentecost came to be a nickname of the mystery of the passion in less than a rooster crows.

Beside it is the mystery of the disappointment of stubborn demon, which helps you all carry the cross, but not the entire load. Fire and Light at dawns where the splendor born...


Genome Freedom, even today every centimeter of my witness of each component, if the basic origin of the signs of the primitive world, is that we have lost the bark of the lexicon, which does not allow us to understand the meditations to ask for something, not You need to ask something. Today genome is requesting something because thousands of people who asked for millions of years, now it's time to cater to them. They were wrapped in cloth shroud of spiritual sacredness, today cemeteries mega dance their souls leave no sleepers both much grass on their heads not yet sullied by the puppet Azrael.


Impossible not to decorate the rocks forged empires that fall into the rubble, they bring 476 d. C., a new opening Middle age freedom of travel both in history thousands of years begins a new axis Golden Carrenio’s Chariot.

Carrenio Wagon

This great colossal ship Carrenio time is a timber that holds the sky, a beam that does not faint or distended thousands a. C, and the old age of King's large musings that were forgotten. It is astride ship millennium, their history of oppression has seen in the wheel, instrument wise rolling like a wheel before 5, 000 years ago, here  We fought and prostrated to distant lands millennium after millennium him away.

Golden Chariot is the structure that freedman us to enforce a new life on earth, even the Gods prided themselves move the stars to constellations called her noble Auriga sailing in full the Universes and Cartwheel Galaxy or cart Wheel. As if to say that when the Universe and its own mythology, were visited between them inch by inch by wherever they shine.

Carrenio mask and frame used had strength, temper, and tittle. When the first libertarian squall of antiquity came closer, Rome was already small and nobles populate what is a quote, Piccola. The executioner always frightened and starts out of his own wickedness. Markos Botsaris as did in Greece, and surrounding towns Messologhi remote, they were free more than tuned in massif Arankithos high wind. He was riding to Kanti once again with the golden rider Etrestles of Kalavrita. According to the Chronicle that came from distant millennia has envisioning promote its neighbor's heroic to free Messolonghi of ****** wars. All this I saw with his own eyes Carrenio, every thousand years styling with Etrestles, cleaned their nostrils so that new breed of horses to thrive,

Avignon, in the necropolis, witnessed as Azrael was cleaning his wings Jade antipopes, another story begins... even he seeks to candela who can read this story, and who can provide it from hand to hand cutting semicolons who disclosed.


Second  Ellipsis Angle  New Era:

Ara released the ropes throwing a big ship, History makes a man is at the center of the world. Revolutions, thinking, communication, and especially vindicate man in his right-libertarian. artists with their creations flowing all over the world, mutating classic Renaissance to abstract overlook. Family appearing welfare and needs. A ramble and so many broken laws. Mankind is distracted l film and theater artist of tradition. Art now has sound and movement, then social and political revolutions are industrial that unite everyone behind the pivot deployment of social classes.


Everything evolves until we get tired of doing so. It rests and then continues. This is modern reality, we wrote about the history of events on facts that have never been told. The world has tired all the Eras, but each pause time that has happened has been recharged, nothing finished if not started again. After so many wise lawyers, clergy plunged into great towers bound books. Is evident again can not read or understand. Our realities are missing valid without knowing I close and then open another door. human and civil rights, fair wages, so excessive autocracy monarchy. Freeman can walk along the paths, even if they were trenches.

Zephyr soft murmur which clutters in the Irises by Van Gogh, the painter is the biggest star trek, called with his feet images and colors that would make his own liberty to live naturally insane. And many others Brueghel "Triumph of Death" that roam the countryside, perhaps a medieval piece of Tarskovski; Andrei Rublev in futile painters decorating steps in the fontano chignon Androniko Monastery Moscow, extinct Rublev 70 years, Tarkovsky 54.

Early ellipsis - Campo dei Fiori in Rome to see die at the stake Giordano Bruno by order of the Holy Inquisition. The irruption of the Inquisition, but their feet are touching the flowers, the seasoned cassock continues to haunt the universe of Faith Dominica Trastevere, it is seen to lectures on how to be bold with the informers and the Whistle Blower dies without shade in spring, you resist the star on the asphalt on the magical island of holiness.

Carrenio says: Come I'm right, we can not read, because the brutality of the Cosmos is manure per ton weathered in the backyard of the aristocracy. I will continue with respect and crosed in Crete. Lila Kedrova means the fear of bunk bed tied to her bed and is free in foreign lands leg. Queen insular matriarchy, she lives more than any Greek Goddess, waiting for his Adonis, to fill out honors. Win an Oscar but lost to Zorba, he loses his house but won a Tony Awards. How many women teach us that to win you have to give everything to lose his brains, and thus count as the lost number remains to be retained. Zorba whines in her arms, she moans in the arms of her husband Zeus Steve, proof of a new era. Onyx for his tomb, plate of this great tragedy.

On the evening of December 14, 1964, attended the premiere. Soul of Carrenio was with them but was denied his attendance at the banquet, finally running out and watching the glasses lips and stoles spent his neck.

                                          
          ­                      Numbered Mysterious Death
                                                  Mané

If I have to feel floe on my feet and cold in my prayers will be the Dark Glory. What is slimming rays of the day, everything smelled of silence, maybe it was Kennedy, or better was The Mané.

Closure of my glory suffers the wind...
Flowers lying silence my soul alight,
Thick square displays the song of my voice...
When they speak Quadratils one to one order their
Spirituous voice.

And the spirit singing fiber of my heart told me:
Never you say I Exist ¡ not exist because they do not exist!
Only face daily the different reflection of your body
In front of yourself with another face and another body...

I want to talk with the thought
And this same subtract my little silhouette,
Lavishes wingless bird that flies only in their theology...
That is the duty and melt with my look,
Solid colors components
Crunching the altars of heaven retaining its pale warmth of anorexia.

Yellow Glory hair good event...
If you receive yellow lights, plus I do not sing my own game here in my empty veins,
Yellow my heart...
Yellow my heart
Yellow my collective heart.

They are run by large green and sunny meadows, children who had Mane in this major milestone in its last gasp. Now she is the mother of his children; it up and them in the last temptation of the mystery of death.

Carrenio keeps rolling, the brightness offered his Golden wagon to the ground. Gold grooves ago, and looking at where it realizes that it's landmass light mud. Since he felt whispers from the confines of time he had never felt as if you were finishing your journey or the world. It raining years and years and continues because nobody mends the mysterious death Numbered.

Heaven and Earth did not hold, the bottom fell precipitously pocket Lord and denied several times uncontained. She shivered in the World and the rooster crowed several times to never be heard or the Pentagon.

He is walking and knees bent,
we embraced by the golden chariot and oxen nor held
we bent us all lying on his knees,
up shoulders not hear from where came the bad grace of his departure,
numbered all the time of complaints of how then she would come,
It is unknown who would be but brought wine in his hand on the crispy mask
We ran from side to side and nothing was real

Everything seemed to sing in the chapel on a sad day,
But I hear loudly like Latin and watchfulness,
Those who know his mystery is no stranger to them
They all look but transgress the sin of silence.

Carrenio still absorbed in the hallway,
Angulo ellipsis she comes winged like a star burning tar,
A high speed to give us the new
No garden can deprive greet in speed visit
Dome comes, it comes on the eve of the new moon.

Numbered Widow mysterious,
Mané is a land of golden color and no celestial whoever wants in his cell,
A breath test, and feeding the Toffy and his henchmen
That sustaining more lively detail, there is no one that can not be targeted

It was modern, it was night, it was his torn life as an accomplice of his exile abandonment in his allegory of tender dismissal. Carrenio achieved so say goodbye to the beams of light that told him of the mysterious death Numbered. He sat on the roadside and drank some wine. Then dry with his handkerchief his neck, and have never wanted to experience such an event in a toast ever drunk.

Third Ellipsis Angle  of  New Era

Independence of Chile, it concerns Mapuche atingent case. Araucania pound, then 1818 central Chile. In Brief, Earth makes free an entire nation. His naive and primitive braves inhabitants emancipated themselves from all sides, they came to save a people who were just following where nobody can reach. Independence of the United States separates us for approximately 42 years, breaking up owners of nowhere. Industrial Abolitionist and South Slaver and Agraria. The biggest event that more than 640, 000 men and fallen activists planted safely from repression fields.

In Chile all rule resembled this secession in today's Araucano man prays for his fallen by almost more than 3 centuries in Chilean lands of Araucanía’s men. Lautaro genius and his supporters the heart of Pedro de Valdivia ate; Map ever made to your battle mapping Tucapel. "Initiation and final symbol occurred after 282 years of fierce war" and Mapuche land forever their independence from the Spanish Empire Captain-General important in foreign lands never subjected to foreign rule would eat.

The Machis and Loncos make supplications in native forests falling on them pollen on its back as if nothing out 10 times better...

To Libertas strengthen in the west is necessary to push the limits of the earth beneath his tongue and penance for the greedy entangled in the lines of bloodied sky, rebellions Chieftains death-defying all together at the edge of a cliff. 1769 The Pehuenches led by Lebian Cacique, joined the Mapuches razing Yumbel and Laja, the most peaceful Huilliches also joined mass alerting perhaps innocent people land blood-stained war and the Mackay Luchsinger.

No doubt portals military rebellion trigger blood, where they opened a tip and swords in the past. Here's reading concern is that the succession is timeless time, a sword without a sword, but on the tip of her blood is seen where there were herds and warriors crushed by their own footsteps. Here the phenomenon of freedom begins; Humanity runs treading his own footsteps, to save his family from a threat, but not strange forces that force you to use your defenses, because in the groves populate many helpless souls with his sword unused at the expense of being forced to use.

Freedom genome; It aims to reach where it has not come without looking back,
Chalices pour out is where the troubadours do not cuddle her close looks like time, singing while watching the changes are not of a new life


Heaven star,
Come to me,
I ask a sign to see them arrive,
Because I want to thus been dragged
Being together Eager to feel...
Those respites without being comforted
going to the mouth of the serpent.

About the Garden,
My home is to put my love,
He has to put the days imagining close...
To enjoy yourself is nonexistent...

Oh, my house tormenting me...!
Because in it I feel your smell
They are alone lights
Where I would wait for me to be in the dark...

In the coming future,
You will not see or hear my anger...
Perhaps my happiness nor peace praying
As the spear in the hands of the perpetrator.

You know a storm of whispers
I do sow your name in the wilderness,
It's because my judgments of hope
They mount up arable land deposited in my frenzy
Misled by a love which is my love.

But you never understand,
Because time has invaded my dwelling,
Invading my brain to give
It has invaded my choosing to love...

On the grass path,
Every time I move away from you,
I turn to see if you have not been...

Love came,
And I think that leaves us alone to avail ourselves
Ranging in our time...


But I can not resist his silence,
For my house want the noise of its action,
Why keys to the gates that serve my understanding.

Tramples my heart the fragmenting oddities into smaller pieces,
Your answer that call.

Tur love be like if I had created...
As if only you had appreciated your beautiful creation.

Do not destroy your work expresses in his mystery give life to your dreams!
Man aiming better earth, ask some of you to join your dreams...

! Your wife of this land does not procrastinate your misfortune,
I discover far peaceful landscapes like an echo in the spring,
As large and deep as your forgiveness for loving me more


It tells the Earth to the Sun in its perky tear benefactress of new opportunities as good and healthy smile rainbow on the back of Oviedo sheep valleys of freedom of Pietrelcina life.

To be continued…
Genoma Freedom , by Jose Luis Carreño Troncoso - Under Edition
BaileyBuckels Oct 2013
Eat then to toss it up,
Appetite sedated for the time being
then to just loose it all
In the fight of the stomach acids and the food
This will **** you,
but you still puke
Bulge on burgers and Shakes
then to loose it to the bowl


I used eat
then loose it
I bulged on burgers and shakes
I used to be
anorexic
I know that people strugle with anorexia and i used to to
Molly Apr 2014
I am not writing this
to get attention
or pity
or so people will tell me
I'm beautiful the way I am.

I am writing this
because when I post a poem about
being terrified to look at myself
because I hate what I see,
it should not be added to a collection titled
Humorous.

I am writing this
because when I sit at a lunch table
without a brown paper sack,
boys should not laugh when they ask
what, are you anorexic?

I am writing this
because when I watch Disney Channel
with my eight-year-old cousin,
I should not hear jokes
about skipping meals.

I am writing this
because when you google
anorexia is,
the first suggestion should not be
anorexia is good.

I am writing this
because our society should not
expect people to be paper thin
but judge them
for trying to get there.

I am writing this
because insecurities
are not a joke,
*no one
should be laughing.
This makes me angry
Gracie Anne Oct 2021
Yesterday I looked at myself in the mirror
And although I tried to take the advice given to me by my therapist
I was unable to find a single thing I might even just tolerate about myself.
Instead, my mind and heart raced each other, trying to see who would win the prize of defeating me
as I scan my naked body for each and every inconsistency and insufficiency.

You see my first memory of self hatred comes from a place most people could not predict.
Imagine me at six years old standing in the shower, so proud of myself
For finally graduating from the bathtub I had associated with childhood.
I had just finished reading “Falling Up” by Shel Silverstein.
And out of the more than 400 poems by this poet one stuck to my brain
Like peanut butter on the roof of my mouth after eating a PB&J.

Now if you’ll forgive me for getting off track for just this moment
I’d like to read you this poem entitled “Scale.”

“If I could only see the scale,
I’m sure that it would state
That I’ve lost ounces...maybe pounds
Or even tons of weight.
‘You’d better eat some pancakes-
You’re skinny as a rail.’
I’m sure that’s what the scale would say…
If only I could see the scale.”

If you’ve ever read a poem by Shel Silverstein you’d know that each of them
Are accompanied by an illustration.
This particular poem is positioned next to a drawing of a person standing on a scale
Unable to see the number because their stomach juts out just far enough
To block their view of the information that scale is providing.
I remember looking down at my naked body
Only to realize that i also could not see my feet.
My childish, growing, prepubescent tummy obstructed my view of my toes.
And I remember thinking for the first time, “Wow, I am fat.”
And that same feeling has followed me throughout these subsequent years.
Throughout elementary, middle, high school and beyond.
My dysmorphic perspective has been a shadow of which I could not shake.
And try as I might, deep down I knew that this was my fate.

I started restricting what I ate starting in 6th grade.
-I counted calories lost and gained and measured my size by the tightness of a tank top.
I watched videos of people like Eugenia Cooney,
and inspired myself through the photos I saw of
Emaciated girls kept alive by feeding tubes.
I was 12.
-I was diagnosed with Ee Dee En Oh Ess in the summer of seventh grade.
EDNOS is a catch-all eating disorder characterized by the characteristics you lacked
To be able to gain the coveted name brand DSM-5 diagnosis of anorexia.
-This I considered to be my failure.
To not qualify because of a lack of being underweight was all I needed for motivation.
So I doubled down on my efforts to lose weight and by the age of fourteen
I had finally achieved that which I so...craved.
I was the best. The skinniest. The one people whispered about in the halls and I had all the attention I could ever dream of getting.
And I was happy.
Wasn’t I?

Skip ahead to now and you will know my comeback story.
Seven years of weekly therapy, numerous psych ward stays, and one near-death experience
I can finally say that I am at a stable and healthy weight.
I continue to despise my body, but now I have the tools and mechanisms to be able to fight off the demon I had nicknamed “Ana”.
-And while I still cannot say that I truly love myself the way I am,
Slowly and steadily I continue to improve.
And I hope that one day I can look into that mirror, take in all my flaws and still be able to tell little 6 year old Grace…
“Sweet girl, you will be okay”.
It's a cruel world we treat ourselves like an advertisement.
So caught up in an obsession that leads to death painfully, sadly.
Looking in the mirror watching her body  waste away,
Yet still to her it's getting more, and more beautiful every day.
Yet every day she get sicker,
covering up the hate for herself by Immersing  herself in liquor.
Is this the right thing that we've been teaching the world? To consume our self-hate? To tremble every time we see a title having anything to do with cake? Cringing everytime we think we might be gaining alittle weight? But alittle weight in reality is nothing to everyone else but an idea you created in your head. Constantly you continue to dread the next time you have to face a meal. Caring to much about the way you appeal.
She says she's 100 pounds too heavy.... Being 110 already.
Girl do you hear yourself?
You see a masked and disguised version of the body your confused  minds blinded you to always see.
scratching at anything everything trying to find a hint of self-worth yet leaving empty-handed.
it's a painful addiction promising you a body that's beauriful so pretty, too skinny.
Skipping breakfast like it's nothing. Then sitting before lunch and dinner don't want to feel the pain that so real, So you push the plate away and leave can't stand the thought of gaining another pound.
Running with your fears,
numbers dictate nearly everything you do.
So you restrict and starve.
Losing your hair as fast as your weight.
This is the painful cycle you choose that we all hate.
Your burning.
You consistently battle thoughts, temptations, it takes up all of your time.
They have no idea but they judge anyway.
you wish you were braver but the idea of throwing it all away is too much, to heavy. These excuses you use on this body that you consistently abuse it's crazy this pain is weighing piece by piece.
you tear  yourself apart.
your ribs getting more and more visible, your meat turning into nothing, it's clinical.
As hard as it is, they don't know what you feel and they never will...
Anorexia.
Leia R Feb 2015
My darling girl

You're not happy with yourself,
It begins to affect your mental health

My darling girl

You lose weight ******* and then your concert tees don't fit anymore

My darling girl

You say that you want to heal
But how then? If you cannot feel.

My darling girl

I have nothing left to fear
For you my dear, a silent tear.
Please contact someone for immediate help if you are experiencing any symptoms of this serious illness.
ink Nov 2014
I say hello
My nametag dangles from my lanyard
"Hello, my name is Liz
Pronouns are kye/kyr"
it says

They see the lanyard
and they laugh.
"Those aren't pronouns!"
they say
"She is messed up."

Shut up.

A 300lb woman
looks into the mirror
she sighs
remembering her peers' words
"You should lose weight."
"You're very overweight."
"Your obeseity is your fault."

A 75lb woman
looks into the mirror
Her anorexia laughs
remembering the 300lb woman she used to be
her peers then tell her
"You need to gain weight."

Shut up. Shut up.

The boy hides his face
Not giving the teacher eye contact
The teacher calls his name
His stomach flips upside-down
She called on him on purpose
he just knows it

In front of the class
expectant, judgemental eyes glaring
Instinct tells him to run
He looks at his notecards
All he sees is chickenscratch
The teacher hangs her head in disappointment
and growls
"Just sit down if you have nothing to say."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

A girl drags hersef through the day
Everything is black and white
Coming home to wild parents
Who hit her constanty
and then claim
"I love you."

Excuses, excuses.
For every welt, mark and bruise
But when she gets one on her face-
She had given one, too.
In fact, she had given many
How generous she was!
The police came and arrest the girl.
All she heard was
"Her mother is dead."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Take a breath
the girl tells herself
She goes to her parents
They stare, wide-eyed
at her dress, eyeliner and nails
they just stare.

She tells them
her new identity
They tell her
"Chris. You aren't a girl.
You're a boy."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

You read a poem
titled "Shut Up"
About the hardships
The unfair, the despair
of living life.

Please know
Opinions don't matter
If you are happy,
who cares what they think?
If they criticize you
Just smile
and say

Shut up.
You are valid.
Please do not let anyone tell you otherwise.

You'll be okay.
BaileyBuckels Oct 2013
Eat then to toss it up,
Appetite sedated for the time being
then to just loose it all
In the fight of the stomach acids and the food
This will **** you,
but you still puke
Bulge on burgers and Shakes
then to loose it to the bowl


I used eat
then loose it
I bulged on burgers and shakes
I used to be
anorexic
I know that people strugle with anorexia and i used to to

— The End —