"bingeing" poems
"Bulimia nervosa, an eating disorder that involves bingeing on food followed by purging, can cause gum disease, osteoporosis, kidney disease, heart disease, and death. Bulimia affects mostly women and teens." - WebMD.com
My eyes blurred as I wiped away the remaining evidence from my mouth.
I cried.
It seems that bulimia had taken over my life these past couple of months.
Even my hands shake now.
For some reason, I didn't seem to care that I could give myself cancer with this, that I could die from this.
My headaches have gotten worse, my depression even more intense.
And my poor, sweet mother, willing to believe that I am sick and NOT doing this to myself.
Could I really do this to her?
She now has the duty to care for several children that are not hers because she cares too much.
She tries, but she no longer listens to her own children.
My mother is broken.
Revealing this to her will only break her more.
So I'll keep quiet.
Purging and ridding myself of my shame and self respect.
What could possibly be worse?
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC
EDNOS is:
confusion.
-starving for days,
then bingeing every day for a week.
-puking until you see blood,
because you failed yet again.
-starving again,
because you’re too fat to function.
-puking some more,
because you’re not strong enough.
EDNOS is:
manic.
-running for hours,
because running makes you thin.
-exercising in the early morning,
because every minute counts.
-constantly fidgeting,
because moving burns calories.
-counting calories like a pro,
because everything has to be exact.
-organizing everything,
because it calms you down.
EDNOS is:
horrible.
-pulling your head out of the toilet,
with tears running down your face and puke all over.
-fake smiling at everyone,
because no one would believe you if you were honest.
-your mind spinning 100miles/hour,
because demons control your thoughts.
-comparing yourself to everyone you see,
because you’re too fat to be a part of society.
-wanting to die every second,
because you’re not perfect.
EDNOS is:
me.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
Are there strategies to displace binge eating
with binge doing?
Wouldn't it be swell to get $ for binge coding?
something like:
poem.each do |word|
money = word.compose(your.wordstream)
end
More efficient monetizing of your thoughts.
More efficient cars and buses.
Correlarry: more paved roads, driveways and concrete surfaces,
therefore, more runoff pollution.
It's not the end game
yet, but a vast,
complicated middle game
with closed centers
and deep positional
Play.
Will our grandmasters make
a mistake real-time playing?
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
To eat or not to eat, that is the question.
A doughnut, ****** airy I’ll consume--
adjust my diet later to make room--
or falsely reject pastries’ sweet delight
while bingeing pasta deep into the night?
Doughnut, thou art satisfying, sweetly
filling morsel, savored now discreetly—
perhaps a little midday’s sugar craving
is better solaced, hunger I’ll be staving
off, resisting better night time craves.
‘Tis better, easier to have the faves;
by portions small on calories I’ll save,
and skip on other dishes that don’t taste
as sweet and crispy, but go straight to waist.
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 7:16 AM UTC
Slipping on her cold blood
Indulgence uncorked
Champagne laced with poison ivy
Euphoria unfolded lapping up
The leftovers of another man's bliss
He got caught in the fish net stockings
Of a poledancer thinking
How the he'll did I miss that
The girl had ***** and a ten inch
Rocket
Tied to a crack in her back pocket
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 3:01 PM UTC
Not many understand but I want them to
I want them to know
How you make me feel
Restricting
Bingeing
Purging
Counting
Please understand what I'm going through
I want to talk
And you to listen
You are my best friend
But you make me feel this way
Why me?
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
It’s like when you’re little
And you notice yourself breathing
And wonder if you’ve been breathing this whole time
Or if it only happens when you think about it
Well, I’ve been thinking much too hard for a long time
So hard that I didn’t notice
The world forming a routine around me
And my unconscious willingness to fall in line
The girl who shunned the lemmings
Followed the crowd all the same
I considered myself a product of anxiety
Not a victim
Not a survivor
But the result of
Someone who thrived on frenetic energy
As worries danced out a stuttering tachycardia
This is the life I was given
Though I prayed for days of calm
Prayed for the safety of routine and predictability
And the comfort they would hold
For I am afraid of nearly everything
So I have been wishing for days without fear
Bowed my head under the Heavens and cried in all the languages I have
Peace, paix, ειρηνη
It was in the pursuit of peace
That I blindly accepted all offers of security
Built myself up with grades and responsibilities and qualifications
With the assurance it would be worth it in the long run
Suddenly I saw the boredom I had asked for
And felt no relief
No comfort
Just the paralyzing fear that I’d settled for a life I did not want
My trembling limbs were made for anxiety
But I’ve been bingeing it
So the lack thereof is just
Empty
It would seem I am addicted to frenzy
Though I always want out
A pendulum between the extremes
Never resting on moderation
Never resting
Period
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 11:38 PM UTC
Night hiking through the last of the giant fields
Deserted farm land in between brand new townhouse complexes
Your new found Australian shepherd is herding us
Charging ahead and circling back to make sure we’re coming
The grass is up to our waists
We’re walking to walk
making daisy chains
testing butter cups under our chins,
******* honeysuckle
lightning bugs flicker
The twilight moon is already high in the sky
Our breath is white -
It’s just a bit too cold out
We smoke and talk and shiver
I keep looking at my watch and can’t concentrate
I start to wish I was home cuddled under blankets bingeing on junk food watching tv.
It’s been a bit too long with you today
After we walk home and you leave, then I miss you
Moonlight.
Finally – sleep.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 10:15 PM UTC
I am disappearing.
The bingeing of alcohol and food-
The disorders and the late nights.
They are devouring who I am.
How to cope
With this devastating revelation-
When everything I want to do
Will eventually **** me?
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 9:58 PM UTC
Gasping for breath
Again.
How many times
Should I pretend?
Smiles and laughter
Scratches and nightmares
After.
Preening and playing
Screaming and bingeing
Contemplating.
Parties with liquor
Bleeding and bruising
Stupor.
Watching and curious
Withering and unconscious
Hideous.
Caress my broken soul
Maybe my spirit's just an empty
Hole.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
There is nothing **** romantic, beautiful or admirable
In starving, bingeing or throwing up.
It doesn’t make you different
And it doesn’t mean you’re in control.
Fish-Bone body,
Spine like shards of glass,
Risking a rupture each time you indulge your
sordid, secret habit.
Why are you trying to find beautiful words
To pretty your ugly, violent acts?
There are none.
There is no beauty
In ***** and bile,
There is nothing to admire
In the punching of your stomach
The water loading,
The blisters on your knuckles
And your grey, grainy skin.
I watched someone die from this.
I refuse to do it again.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 9:34 AM UTC
I sleep at my mother's
My wife has repossessed
The bed and my neighbour
Does the plumbing etc.....
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
Melting morning dew
As I feared, danced, and shaked
Beneath a thousand years of illusions
Fingers drifting unlocking my flesh
As the voice of footsteps kiss the summer goodbye
Unraveling enchantment, soft, wild, and free
Strawberry hair blooms into a tangled tease
Sultry peach curves
Famished suckling the nectar
Luscious intervals of bingeing
As we entice the natural yearning
I invited your you to love
As we begin to swim to shore
Were as bare as the night
Where multiple stars glittered then died
As your bones are shattering were confined together
I dive into the bottom of your mind
Overindulging in your ribs and esophagus
Maneuvering in your foundation
Emptying out the cage you placed yourself in
Scare all the monsters away
I shall await patiently for a taste of your heart
I'll relish from part to part
When I'm done I'll live inside your throat
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 1:20 AM UTC
Bingeing on all my sorrows
I can not help but shovel in
All my thoughts and emotions
That I didn't want to share with a friend
I try to hold it back
I try to resist
But I can't help throw up
All the words I have never wanted to shed.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
You'd think 4 years would be enough
I longed for control and then I lost it
In this cruel cruel cycle
Binge
1000's of calories
guilt
shame
bloating
I feel control when my stomach hurts
I feel comfort
Restrict
10's of calories
euphoria
shame
grumbling
I feel control when my stomach rumbles
I feel beautiful
This cycle is meant to be a form of control
but here I am
bingeing and restricting
until I can purge this hurt
May 3, 2019
May 3, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
My fortitude is formed with the force of Brutus' crooked dagger in my back,
These fictional factualities ferment my mentality and thats a fact,
However I refuse to forfeit,
For I am fighting external forces with this existential forklift,
Uplifting my energy, channeling my inner G ,
When I step I centipede then with this the pen I bleed,
Think it's all a process of auto-biology,
I'm always overthinking- in need of an auto-lobotomy,
I'm the hero and the villian in my autobiography,
So its a automatic mutiny for this auto-autonomy,
It's self righteous how felt this self fight us,
It's shelf life is kelp like but felt like years ,
They say that legends never die,
Oh this lonely hell of mine,
The look of death ever present on my absent mind,
Long-winded, but these spurts of happiness are short-lived,
**** bingeing , cups overflowing with beer,
My thoughts Tinted, heavy drinking till I'm light-headed,
I don't eat or get sleep ,
Steady thinking, "where's my life headed??"
Need to stop running my mouth,
Too busy tryin to exercise these demons,
I keep pushing my luck, and im exhausted from this heaving,
Heavy breathing , and sold separately are these hellish hiccups,
My nightmare begind every mornin when I sit up...
Oct 17, 2023
Oct 17, 2023 at 9:34 AM UTC
Flip,
Flip,
Flip through the pages of a fantasy series,
Always a Series,
You don't want good things to end,
Emerging,
Bingeing,
Hiding,
Takes you away from the wicked and wild,
Cause these friends cant hurt you...
Sep 20, 2020
Sep 20, 2020 at 10:17 PM UTC
you’re not an
episode
worth skipping.
you’re a
series
worth bingeing.
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 10:52 AM UTC
To eat or not to eat; that is the question.
A doughnut--yeasty, airy--I’ll consume,
adjust my diet later to make room,
or falsely reject pastries’ sweet delight
while bingeing pasta deep into the night?
Doughnut, thou art satisfying; sweetly
filling morsel, savored now discreetly—
perhaps a little midday’s sugar craving
is better solaced, hunger I’ll be staving
off, resisting better night time craves.
‘Tis better, easier to have the faves;
by portions small on calories I’ll save
and skip on other dishes that don’t taste
as sweet and crispy, but go straight to waist.
Apr 2, 2024
Apr 2, 2024 at 11:12 PM UTC
I could write you a letter every day
Instead I filled every May with letters of the alphabet:
A time came for passing through road side inns and
Beaches where you stroked every grain of sand from the
Corners of my face I hid my smiles ensewn on your
Designs to play with my hair stained with sweat and
Every sweet word and edge of your books cutting through my
Faint heart for friends that needed fixing
Grunge rock, emo punk screaming through lungs
Halting for a beat on your eardrum
Inconsistent dates, intolerant of my sarcasm because you are
Jokes made on table tops, bingeing on laughter until I threw up,
Keeping score of words, broken promises and mistakes,
Looking at everything wrong with staying but
Maintaining the balance of a smile and ugly crying at night,
Nicotine in every breath I am consumed in
On top of you on a bench or a bedside table we were
Poetry half-baked excuses so I don't
Question everything we risked to stay, stay alive
Remembering long walks and feeling infinite and the
Same soulmate-seeking sentiment,
Temerity served with every glass of alcohol and
Understanding why you woke up just to fall out of love with
Vicious cycles you can't keep up with getting tired of me but
Who knew things transpired to make way for
Exes and hoes to keep up the act of all the temporary.
Your happiness is above mine but yesterday, remember
Zigzag lines and lies never to coincide
Daydreams and delusional memories
to be replaced with
watching me see who you really are for the first time
as you look through someone else's eyes and feed
her temporary smiles that fill the void
Making it out to a vision of me you can't replace
the taste, the touch, the haste to forget
Like counting backwards and shapeshifting.
Three words that will never mean anything.
Two anxiety attacks per week.
Once we were real and pure
but pitch black and we are back to
Zero.
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 12:19 PM UTC
I am glad of who I am.
I celebrate my difference
From those who scam
And lie, without diffidence,
Meanwhile, they are godless
And worship Mammon
In the name of holiness;
A practice that is common.
Their sleepless nights
And bingeing on Mylanta
Belies their image of Santa;
Their self-created fantasy
Of being job creators
When the money they create
They keep, and put away
Into offshore banking states.
With no basis for pride.
They can’t celebrate
About what they are,
They can only prevaricate;
Hire companies to help them
To look us in our eye,
Smile in thousand dollar hairdos
And capped teeth then lie.
Not I. My armor is truth,
Saying what and who I am
And letting others know
Their postures are flim-flam!
And as long as they make money
Nothing is commendable but wealth;
They joyfully create a culture
Where there is pride in stealth.
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC
cerebral diarrhea
versus verborrhea
unpunctuated disequilibrium
generates opprobrium
unfree verse
fettered or worse
verbal *****
bomb it.
confessional purgings
depressional urgings
emo-bingeing over unrequited love
makes this poet go off / out / above
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 1:08 PM UTC
I wonder how much sugar it'll take
To drown your bitter aftertaste
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 12:57 PM UTC
Is this the life you really want?
Meaningless meeting, awkward proceedings;
You cower behind your digital courage
In attempt to quench your thirst.
Is this the life you really want?
Bingeing a liquid just to prohibit:
Life, loneliness, and everything
From breaking down your door.
-
Where were you when he hit me?
Where were you when he touched me?
All these wounds they tear me down
And you insist to trust thee?
Overdoses, drugs, and ***
I'm comatose in my own skin
If you really are the vine,
Where has your lifeline been each time?
I'm reaching out into the darkness
Cause grasping sin is more than nothing
If you demand my love and trust,
Why are you so hesitant to show me something?
Apr 30, 2018
Apr 30, 2018 at 6:25 PM UTC
I have been bingeing and purging actively
desperately trying to rid all sort of emotions by stuffing my finger down my throat
the past two weeks.
It has led me to feeling somewhat inept lately.
It all starts from –
I’m hungry
to I’ll eat a little more because I am hungry
to It’s okay I can over-eat once in a while
to I think I am eating too much
to I ate too much
to I have to purge this out
to Don’t do it
to **** THIS ****
I am a raging bulimic.
At the same time I am an irresponsible lover –
It hurts me to see her take her leave but the Good Samaritan in me thinks she’d be better off without me –
without the vicious grip of Ana and Mia on me overflowing, grippling her sanity.
I can never ask for a better companion but my ED has the ability to trick me,
manipulating her never-ending support for my recovery
with sabotaging my everlasting quest for perfection.
I have reduced my feelings to writing, purging out my emotions in the form of poetry,
usually disguised as a lover pining for the return of her one true love.
Right now I am armed with my ink pen and an overused jotter book,
left to defend for myself against the overpowering voices in my head.
Triggering graphic images enough to scare a death-prone patient into total recovery
has been thrown right in my face yet I still seem nonchalant.
My voice is drowned by the loud voices of Ana and Mia –
both ordering me what to do, all at the same time.
Either that or I am the adolescent hiding in my room –
filled with nothing but fear, overhearing the bickering of my parents
debating about which school I should go to,
what course of study should I pursue,
when am I old enough to go out with my friends to the mall,
et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
What led me here?
Am I finding the transition of growing up into adulthood intimidating?
Am I really afraid of gaining weight?
Am I using food to deal with my emotions?
Do I think that I am not good enough?
Do I feel that this is the only way I can be in control?
Do I not want to get out?
Is this my desperate plea for attention I’ve been denied of?
Is it change that I fear?
Is what I’m working towards to just a mere subtle suicide?
I don’t know. All I know is that I won’t stop until I am stripped to my bare essentials.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 9:23 AM UTC