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Jackeline Chacon Aug 2014
Dreaming of walking model thin
Unaware she's bones and skin

She lives in a damaged brain
Drowned from her vomiting pain

Her insecurity torn up her mind
Left her bulimic and mentally blind

Always hugging her toilet beside
Half dead from purging her soul inside

Crying because her ugly reflection
She won't give up until she's perfection
Jade Jan 2019
⚠Trigger Warning; the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to suicide, self-harm, and eating disorders⚠
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how do u know if ur having a nervous breakdown
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signs of a nervous breakdown
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can u be hospitalized for having a nervous breakdown
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grounds for admission to a psychiatric ward
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what's it like being admitted to a psychiatric ward
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker suicide scene
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how do u know if ur having a panic attack
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are panic attacks and anxiety attacks the same thing
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whats the difference between a panic attack and an anxiety attack
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generalized anxiety disorder symptoms
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker suicide scene
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borderline personality disorder symptoms
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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why are my hands always cold
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bipolar disorder symptoms
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seroquel side effects
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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how to refrain from eating
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how to force yourself to throw up
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eating disorder symptoms
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binge eating disorder symptoms
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bulimia symptoms
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anorexia symptoms
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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insomnia
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can you overdose on melatonin
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how did sylvia plath **** herself
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carbon monoxide poisoning
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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how many advils do I have to take to **** myself
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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major depressive disorder symptoms
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suicide warning signs
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IS PATH WARM
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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tortured artist
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why did vincent van gogh cut off his ear
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virginia woolf suicide note
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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songs about suicide
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thirteen reasons why soundtrack
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billie eilish lovely lyrics
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why do I feel so empty
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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empty
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thirteen reasons why hannah baker slitting her wrists
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i wish i was dead
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

jadefbartlett.wixsite.come/tickledpurple

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience)
dainty wrists Dec 2013
I remember when you found out that I had Bulimia.
You never cried, or tried to understand,
You just shouted.
You grounded me, remember?
Said I was a failure.
You made me eat forgetting I have an eating disorder.
You pretended it never happened.
I had to cure myself because you wouldn't get me help.
"No daughter of mine needs help"
"No daughter of mine is mental"
Remember when you said that dad?
Do you?

And now, I've been diagnosed with Anorexia.
And I am literally terrified that you will find out.
Because you will get angry, won't you?
Like last time, remember?
You'll force food down my throat and make me not tell anyone
All because you're ashamed with me.
Well thank you.
For making me hide my eating disorder.
I guess I'll do what I always do.
And deal with it on my own.
I am genuinely scared to post this because this poem is a representation of what happened to me, and these are my most personal feelings. I like to put it in poetry because people can interpret it differently and I guess I like that. I'm sorry if this triggers anyone.
Julie Grenness Feb 2017
Teens of Telstra, teens of Telstra,
Staff of team Telstra, they are stars,
To me they all look like teens,
Cutest things you've ever seen,
Oh, teens of Telstra, teens of Telstra,
Now there's collective bulimia,
As greys with phones enter their shop,
Under the counters, the teens do hop,
Teens of Telstra groan and moan,
"Who gave grey old farts mobile phones?"
Feedback welcome.
Astounding Nov 2013
You put your fingers in the back of your throat
In hopes you can gain what you have already lost
control
But you are lying to yourself
Because you never really had it
David Ehrgott Aug 2015
Thirty-six years ago
Singing in the rain
My mind filled with dreams of singing inside

Somewhere
Maybe should have left that dream
Dream somewhere
Maybe somewhere
Like on a Winnipeg farm
Somewhere

Then I left my dream
Somewhere
I fought in secret wars for my country
Somewhere
But, there is no record of it
Anywhere

But, Somehow I managed to glean other dreams
with some (of them) having every color of the rainbow
I guess that that would be all of the colors
Not all the colors are true

I've been told to watch my timbre
How can I see what belongs to the ear?
So, I tell them where to put their pulgar
and number ten my amplitude
  
Here goes
  
Go Ahead and chuck-up Miss Bulimia
You're running way too high
Like A12 hertz
I haven't hit and absolute since high school
and that one came with too much f**ng dirt
  
The true witch, Miss Bulimia
With pendulums for breast
Wanted to entrapped me, slap
Some bracelets 'round my fists
  
I never could paste saccharin on to dog ****
And if I could it would not change the taste
I hope you find the one you want
Someone that never catches you
While I sit here
and slash both of my wrists
  
Cutting is such a natural, no frills high
Doesn't cost you much
But you could die
Better than a drug
You bleed your heart
every time you remember
how it starts
  
A dream
  
of love
  
gone
  
forever
  
Goodbye Miss Bulimic USA
You never could be true is what you said
Still living in a lie
If you got fat, you'd probably die
A head that gives
Is only just a head
Make fun of me
But, wait until I'm dead
the coopers family, the case of torette syndrome




michelle met young rudy rometon, who was really hard to look after, every time micheele turned her

back rudy will hold a plastic knife toward another patient of the psych ward, because she is really

psychotic, and michelle couldn’t handle her on her own, so she asked sally to help her, and sally

said, yeah, because if we have to help this girl get help we can’t push her away, but the only

problem with rudy is, she feeds the staff with these ridiculous jellyfish lies, that she was kidnapped

by the mafia, and her father was the head honcho and michelle then said, i read about the mafia

and your dad isn’t one, but rudy would get really aggressive on the psych ward medical staff, and

sally took rudy into the room to let her have a yelling match and she yelled out

YOU FUCKEN STUPID ****, MY MOTHER PROMISED ME A TRIP TO WARNER BROS MOVIE WORLD

AND THEN SHE FUCKEN WENT BACK ON HER FUCKEN WORD, SHE ALSO SAID I COULD BE

A BEAUTIFUL MODEL,AND THEN SHE FUCKEN WENT BEHIND MY BACK, AND SAID RUDY, ISN’T

FULLY EQUIPPED, and sally stopped her by saying, with being famous and rudy said, LET ME FUCKEN SPEAK

sally was distraught and felt threatened as she tried to listen, YEAH, SHUT UP, THAT STUPID TWO FACED MOLE

DECIDED TO LOCK ME UP EVERY TIME I WAS TRYING TO ACHIEVE MY DREAMS, I WANT HER TO STOP

BUT SHE WON’T LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU SEE SALLY COOPER, I HAVE BEEN HAVING PROBLEMS, TRYING TO DEAL

WITH MY FUCKEN PROBLEMS IN MY BRAIN, from that moment, sally took rudy in for a brainscan, to see if there

is any sign of mental illness, and rudy didn’t want the brain scan, only because she was too defensives when someone says

she is a mental head and then as david was entering to check on rudy, rudy got her plastic knife, and threatened david, if

she wasn’t allowed to go, david, wasn’t in the losing mood and tripped rudy up and locked her in the solitary cell, saying

i bet you prefer to be here, rather than the streets, cause your mum wants time, cause she can’t except you at the moment

rudy yelled blue ******, saying WHY DON’T YOU FIND A FUCKEN WAY TO GET ME OUT OF THIS DUMP, and david said

if you want tp be free, you must behave yourself, because at present you are menace, menace i tell ya, and meanwhile

at the coopers family clinic john prendth was dealing with a patient who has bulimia, and she was skinny, and this made john

want to get a referral for her to go to a food abnormalities centre, where they only monitor you what you eat, well john was having

problems with her conversation patterns, from positive and negative positive and negative, which made john think there is a little

bit of mental illness, but her brain scan showed nothing, but to be on the safe side, john took a picture of the brain, just to make sure

that there isn’t anything small, and instead of being with sue and frank at dinner, he spent 4 hours looking for abnormalities from the

scan, which shows nothing, and then john noticed a tumor growing, at present it is alright, but it looks like those kind of tumors that

could do more harm if not removed early, so the next day, as david brought the morning medications for rudy and also the breakfasts

for the impatients of the psych ward, john phoned her bellmic patient to come and discuss her results and she vomited in her toilet every

hour on the hour, she was cranky, and finding out she has a tumor, made her more furious, and she said, i want that tumor out of fucken me

right now, while sally was given new words but same guidelines, that her mum is a two faced marta ****, and sally said, here take these ******

because you need to calm down, because, what you are doing is not right, these inpatients are sick, they don’t want some bratty teenager like you

putting plastic knives to their arms and then martin came out and said, why you young ****, get off ya ****, and into work, mind you, sally spent all day

with rudy, because at 3 in the afternoon she was diagnosed with torette syndrome and rudy yelled every swear word under the sun

and the staff said, yeah, you are swearing and you get ticks, david said that you have terretz, ok, rudy yelled and went into her room while the

nurses got the medication, and decided on clonidine, 2 tablets at night and one dexedine in the morning, but david still wanted to monitor rudy

here in his psych ward, cause she has a violent temper, and at the end of that day david, ron and john and sue went to sing leonard cohen’s

halleuiah, in a very awful voice, plus david and jean and jack were telling jokes of their past, while rudy and john’s bulimic patient with a tumor

were understanding, but rudy hit michele and sally a few times, but all in a days work

the end
anonymous999 Oct 2013
what about
me being bulmic?

screaming at you how my brother had caused it
i completely lost it
begging you to open
your ears for a moment
‘bulimics lose their teeth..’
ran up to my room
listening through the floor
hearing how ‘stupid, ’and ‘dumb’
you took me for

one year later
‘wow, its horrible
how skinny she’s gotten.
bulimia, its awful!
doesn’t happen too often
oh, do you know what that is?
its when girls puke themselves
the sickness overwhelms
quite awful, you can tell.
you would never do that,
right, my daughter?
you know better, you’re skinny'
(yeah, we’ve got her)

it’s funny, isn’t it?
what people forget
always the things
you would never expect
not necessarily a poem, but was very hard to write. needs some work
Emma Nov 2013
Everyone I've only been home for about 4 weeks and already I feel myself failing.
I am trying everyday, I try and I try. But I feel my will slowly fading
It's different  being back here where I have no support meetings and daily check ups
It's different, and I ******* hate this all of it
I want to give up but I know, I know I just can't
Not for anyone else, but for myself.

I miss me.
I miss Emma, and I'm scared that she'll never come back. That she'll never be the same

Today I ate a slice of pizza, some granola, and filled up on water. Even then I wanted to *****. I wanted to let it all go, the pain, the suffering, the fear.
I don't want to be so negative but it's a ******* disease, bulimia is one hell of a sickness. One that I might just rot away in

*I want to be held and loved. I want to be happy and free. I want my life back everyone
rant
PA Trees Oct 2017
Insomnia is not for the weary
It kills the hours of the night

Depression is not for the broken
It murders them on sight

Anxiety is not for the frightened
It makes their heart beat fast

Bulimia is not for the hungry
It swallows them up too fast

Self harm is not for the fragile
It won't let them just be

Love is not for the anyone
Especially not for me.
Violet Hooper Apr 2014
I've never understood girls who obsessed about their weight
until i developed bulimia
this isn't poetry
I never sympathized with drug addicts, because my father wasn't around
now im waiting on a new hit of Adderall
this isn't poetry
I used to fall in love with everything I saw and I gave meaning to things without it
I told you I love you knowing that the way i feel now is the closest i can feel to love.
I read somewhere that a poet can make anything beautiful
but you aren't a poet
you can't make me beautiful.
I know you dont understand that i can't feel things all the time
and i know that you're afraid that i'm going to hurt you

don't let your gaurd down yet, love, im afraid of that too.
Jordan Frances Dec 2014
Hold your breath, girl.
Don't feel.
As he places his shallow love inside of you
Every breath feels like a brick
Pressed against your stomach
Collapsing the walls of your lungs
Until you feel yourself gagging.
Let him talk to you
But your words have become rather expensive
As he plays with your hair
As he touches your waist
As you turn away
Because his fingers cannot feel the rivets in your rib bones.
Your eating disorder makes casual *** a little harder
As does your history with assault.
Sometimes, your PTSD and bulimia want to have an ****
They are the extra lovers you never invited
But as you mount on top of him
Trying to make him forget he doesn't love you
And that you don't love him
It seems they are whispering in your ear
Why would any man want to *******?
                         He's all you have.
Stop pretending to be good enough.
Try to let these thoughts slip out of your mind
As you slip out of your clothes
Shedding your snake skin.
You kneel there now
His eyes are resting on each inch of your body
But your skin begins to crawl
Your heart begins to shake
You unravel before him
Every end of you is fraying
And he doesn't even know.
What happened to never doing this again?
What happened to getting over it?
Promiscuity smells like stale cigarettes and ***
In the back of a car
With an older man.
Promiscuity tastes like an empty transparent bottle
You can see through it like everyone sees through you.
Like ice cubes
On your fire slinging tongue
From that shot of whiskey a few minutes ago.
How many minutes ago?
Two hours ago.
Yesterday.
Wake up, girl
Detach
Stop holding on to the shards of glass
That break the delicate flesh
On your fingertips.
Put on a mask
Don't let him know you're dead inside.
Your job here is to
Make him believe you're still alive.
nabi 나비 Dec 2016
There is so much more to this than you know
There is more to anorexia than starving
There is more to depression than sadness
There is more to anxiety than stress
There is more to bulimia than purging
There is more to bipolar disorder than mood changes
There is more to a mental illness than one thing
A mental illness effects every part of someones life
As well as everyone you love
It's an illness and it hurts
But a mental illness can never be cured
But you can help your loved one with it
But first you have to know what you're helping
Anorexia is a disorder characterized by a desire to lose weight by refusing to eat
Depression is a disorder characterized by persistently depressed mood or loss of interest in activities
Anxiety is a disorder characterized by feelings of worry, anxiety, or fear
Bulimia is a disorder marked by binging, followed by methods to avoid weight gain
Bipolar disorder is associated with episodes of mood swings ranging from depressive lows to manic highs
You need to know about this because people have this
And more awareness needs to be made
Because mental illness effects everyone
A lot of people I know and am very close with deal with mental illnesses, I do too.  I don't see much awareness being made for it, and I think that there should be.  i wrote this and I was going to present it but decided not to, but I still thought that people should see it
RX
It is so hard to swallow pills whole
they fight you at every effort
and when the day comes that you have swallowed too many,
your tongue will try and push them out
begging you
to please stop,
to live with the headache, the stomach ache, the pulled muscles and joint pain.
Refusing to be sixty at seventeen, you ignore it
and force yourself to swallow.
Anything to stay loose
and to stop the pounding in my head.
Stomach ulcers, blood clots
Doctors say I'm a hypochondriac
I know that I am
but the pills help
they do
all the asprin and ibuprophin
I think my body is half Clariton
Reverse bulimia
I make myself swallow
Jordan Frances Nov 2014
To my father
I'm sure I have written this poem so many times before
But this time, I just want you to listen.
See, I keep writing and rewriting
Examining and analyzing which way will be the most effective to tell you
You ****** me up, man
But I don't hold it against you
Just against myself.
I press it to my chest every second I live
Like the hot metal pan I burned myself with last Friday
It brands my skin so tightly to form a label
One that tells me I am too fat to be pretty
Too promiscuous to be loved
Too awkward to be worth anything more than an insult.
You make me feel like such a bad person, dad
And I am screaming for you to just accept it
For the first time in your life
How anxiety and bulimia are byproducts of my chemistry as well as my childhood
How I am so hellbent on staying silent about my assault
Because you told me to keep it in the family when I was molested
And while you were supportive
You did not let me thrive by telling my story
As I could have with you by my side.
You claimed to be protecting from scrutiny
But I can take care of myself because I know what I'm up against.
How my dysfunctional relationships
In which I expect to be told I am a failure
Because that is all you have ever expected me to be
Have to do with how you brought me up.
I say I will seek to do everything better for my family
For my future
And yet, I already find the fingerprints of what you have done to me
Everywhere in my life
And my body and soul cry out
They say
"Don't be like your father!"
And yet, whenever I act in any way that even slightly resembles you
I want to tear my skin off
Bang my head against a wall so hard that my memory pours out my ears
So I don't have to hear your vicious comments about
My weight, my social skills or how I embarrass you
Is that the legacy you want to leave?
Daddy, I really don't mean to incriminate you
I just don't want you to wonder why I never came home
Or why I ran away with some man who doesn't really love me
But makes me feel human.
My heart is like a sword fight
And the scars run deep
Like train tracks, they trace every place I've been
But they don't lay out where I plan to go.
I can only hope that place is far away from here.
Lexie Nov 2014
Chinese food on Saturday
and bulimia nervosa on Sunday
anorexic pancakes on Monday
and cold syrup on Tuesday
camels from **** day Wednesday
and a dessert of sand for Thursday
a week of weakness for Friday

when will it end
the voices in my head
Jordan Frances Oct 2014
The smoke in the air tells a story
As she ***** on a cigarette.
She sits in a park, alone at night
Waiting for someone to tell her to go home
Before they call the police.

The smoke in the air tells a story.
She remembers the days before she needed this fix
The days when she was happy.
Times before her ex-boyfriend tanked her self-esteem
Times prior to some guy picking her up when she was
Down and out
He used her for his own selfish needs
Left her feeling *****
He covered his tracks to make sure
No one would believe her.

The smoke in the air tells a story.
As the way it crawls down her throat and chokes her
Reminds her of the era
Not long ago
When bulimia was her best friend.
Why does she still wish at times
That she could purge her life away?

The smoke in the air tells a story.
Of the times when her ex brought her Marlboros
And they polished off a pack when her parents weren't home.
They were such a cliché, with cigarettes after ***
But that's exactly how she wanted it to be.

The smoke in the air tells a story.
About the week after her grandfather suddenly passed away
She was on her ninth day without sleep
Chain smoking provided her with some relief
And so did passing out in an empty lot.

The smoke in the air tells a story
Her story
My story.
So I suppose one more pack couldn't hurt.
Katharine Kvh Mar 2012
Dear Prozac,
Thank you for saving my life.
Maybe one day, I will be a good wife.
Ill witted me, now singing softly.
Dear Xanax,
Thank you, for now I can breath.
Too much, and I can’t talk .
Just enough, I can barely walk.
Dear Adderall,
My favorite of the bunch,
For you always keep me up.
Grinding you in a powder,
To feel your mighty ******!
Dear Vyvanse,
Always necessary and prescribed,
When you can never eat,
Who needs bulimia nervosa?
The daily calories are in my mimosa
Dear Ambient,
Thank you for the sleep.
All the others make me wide-eyed.
With you, I feel the day, complete.
No longer I will be, a zombie.
fun on puns
Amariah Clift Nov 2014
Thank fearless love for a passionate life.
Throttles charge the gallows as if oddly shaped feet pour over mountains
There are things, the things no one has thought of before
Thin, thick, the golden gate plays games, give way to distrusting forgiveness
Thrusting and diving, trusting the knifing thief
Thoughts and dreams, whispers and spit
Through mediums and *******
Thinking, inking, chumming, coming
Thumbs are an evolutionary error
The taste of him, tactical and scared, afraid of the ensnared
Thrilling and drilling the president, he’s drowning in his will to represent
Threads rip at the sight of wrong and rotten thicks of ruin
Thistles lump near the top, swinging while ticks sway and swoon
Throw candles, lit fireflies, halt the stop watch knowing desire as we die
Throats bleach with boiling bills, and melodiously drown in melancholy ornaments
Theories prove insane is a thorough man with an open book of blank pages
Thwarting covers, nobody remembers, none have known his face
Thrifty as he is, they thrive on his peace and resistance
Thirty thousand cherries dropping at once, an atomic bomb
Threatening the fictitious fruit and depriving them of their dairy-free dreamscapes  
Thirsty Thursday looks at ******* Friday with a fringe of fear and inevitable fate
This feeling strives for a piece of an idea
Those thinkers, sultry like lively lace purple violet lilacs
Throttle sticks like lit dynamite to the corpses of conscious cornucopia
Thirsting crooked thatches croon about WD40, singing of slippery songs
Thespian facades, escapades and escapes, long catharsis reaction
Thumping metallic beats, drum the dents in my souls
Thermal conspiracy, heating the eggs equally hard boiled
Thin trees fragile nuances manifesting smoldering adolescent passion
Themed leaves seize Victoria’s secrets, branches boast their bulimia
Thorns are for foreign foliage fornication, induced by important imbeciles
Thumps will free theatre floors’ footsteps, and yawn gouging groans between the cracks
Thugs wail woes, worries and warts, sailors chug the tailored mug
Thongs, *** cracks and crackerjacks, sweet till the sweaty end
Thaw the swallows nest, waking feathers from their preening and unrest
This poem has taken me the course of several months to finish. It makes little sense and is strictly put together because I though the words sounded pleasant together
Michael Ryan Feb 2018
I love my illness
and I am pretty sure
that it loves me too.

No I am certain
that beyond any doubt
my sickness is the only
true love that I have.

But I do worry and doubt
that it may be the only
love I ever find.

I love it because
maybe it will lead
to another life where
others will love me too.

I'll be able to thank
my one friend for making
all of this possible
for letting me find
others that will
like me for me.

Even if others
never know
that it was really my friend bulimia
that let me
finally be loved by them.
At least one thing is eating. (Eating away at me)
JWolfeB Mar 2015
I have manipulated this poem
To be a mask of emotions
Not letting you know
I am falling apart
Because bulimia is only for girls

Men do not reject their self worth
Due to pressure from society
A consistent of not good enough
Photoshopped billboards

Recalling my most recent meal
In attempt to match my expectations
The ones I have created for myself
Through tainted understandings
Of the world around me
Von White Feb 2019
Alcoholic bulimia.
Empty out your insides.
Hardly anything within you.  
Still purge all of it out.
Leave a synthetic stomach As Barren as the lost at sea.
Puking until  weakened by vicious dry heaves.
exhausted and now pleased
Tile rubbing raw the knees.

Alcoholic bulimia.
Put cold fingers down your throat. Alcoholic bulimia.
Laughing as one chokes.
Alcoholic bulimia.
Bronze hair in ***** soaked.
Put cold ******* fingers.
Down your cut up throat.
Put cold ******* fingers.
Down your cut up throat.
Put cold ******* fingers.
Down your cut up throat.
Alcoholic bulimia.
Alcoholic bulimia.

Finger nails cutting the asofogis.
Head in toilet stains with
Poetry/lyrics
Angie Acuña Mar 2013
"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?
I need help.
Riot Jun 2014
it's been a year I've though about doing it again
i'm trying not to think about it

it's been four years since my dad hit me
it didn't even hurt
but you know what they say
it's the thought that counts

i hate trying to speak when no one is listening
every time i say something
all you hear is a whistling
that's my father trying to find anything wrong
like when i told him i couldn't write a song
for the church i do everything for

i saw the look of despair
and from that day on
it was like i wasn't even there

i did an experiment
when i was 11
i would wait until everyone went downstairs
and i wanted to see who would notice first

but what once was an experiment
turned into something more
ever since i stopped
i found myself wanting more
and for now it's just a thought
but i wanna go back

**i really do
i almost made myself throw up at church yesterday (it was a family fit thing) the only reason i didn't was because there were people near the bathroom
Beanie Baby Feb 2014
A poem you’ve never heard

Baby’s friend said she was fat so
She stripped it off like onion skins
Cigarettes took a layer
Aderol the next
A bout with bulimia the final
She was bony and skinny and Baby’s friend
Said she looked good
But her clothes hung like bags
Her muscles felt like string chesese
*** wasn’t even fun because her bones
Bit like iron
So Baby put on weight
Like comfy sweaters
A superhero’s cape
Her friend sneered and snorted
But Baby stopped caring and in the end
She was *****
She was bold
She was beautiful
Lennox Trim Oct 2023
...a demented entity had entered me,
Imposing its will relentlessly,
I was moving nonsensically,
Blocking blessings that were meant for me,
These days I'm indecisive , And my vices are devisive,
My minds a rolling pair of dice and is the opposite of what paradise is..
Never been a better time to better myself.
I guess I had to go through things.
Never been a better time to bet on myself.
I guess its best to grow through things.
I never cared - I was careless ,
I feared being afraid - or maybe I was afraid to be fearless,
Thinking before I speak, I swallow my second guesses,
Sinking beneath my feet, I wallow in expected messes,
I guess I'm paradoxing, cause the problem could be possibly me,
Shadowboxing , dipping, dodging , but this pain I can't see,
Physically I'm fit, never been more mentally unhealthy,
Crazy how this emptiness can feel so heavy..
Still,
Filled to the brim, with testosterone and lighting,
I remember I used to walk like thunder,
these feelings I keep fighting, won't let em take me under,
Cause..
Some days I be feeling cloudy with a chance,
Others like I can build the twin towers with my hands,
Reality is different at first glance,
But this towels in my hands , washed clean ..tryin to save face,
Devoured the food for thought ,
But I forgot to sat my grace,
I can't gain from this wait,
A rare form of bulimia,
But belive me im breathing with the strength of bohemians,
The irony is that things unfolded to this exact moment in time,
I chose to dismantle MY solitude/ hopefully for something sublime,
It's funny how things work/
I guess I missed the punchline,
I'm at the used heart salesman/
standing in this lunch line ,
Missed my train of thought/
Too busy tryin to claim baggage,
Playing the cards I been dealt/
With this full house , im Bob Saget...
D'evils Pt. 2 speaks on the mindset I had circa 2k17/18. I felt defeated but I knew that it was only a feeling, and feelings fade over time. Yours truly , Legendary_Lox
Xander King May 2015
Letter to my parents who for some odd reason feel the need to micro-manage my life and treat me like a villian:

First off, *******. All you do is act holy and like you are better than me. You act like you never made any mistakes, and ohhh yes you did ones waaay worse than mine. You're gonna tell me I cant see my friends or watch tv because I smoked. Well what about you? You've told me some pretty crazy stories about your teenage days getting ****** and drunk and skipping class and ******* off. At least I go to school, at least I go to school and do my work and don't get ****** before class. At least I'm ******* responsible. Oh and I've been grounded from the internet for over a year for dating a ****** bag and being "Inappropriate" with him. Remind me about your pregnancy at what? 14? 15? HAHA at least I'm still a ******* ******. I'm rude?I'M RUDE?!?!?! SAYS THE ***** WHO STILL CALLS BLACK PEOPLE ******* AND GAY PEOPLE *******, SAYS THE ***** WHO CALLS HER STEPKID CRAZY AND SAYS ONLY HER AD WOULD CARE IF SHE WERE POISIONED, SAYS THE ***** WHO MAKES SUICIDE AND BULIMIA JOKES LIKE ITS ******* FUNNY!!!! SAYS THE ***** WHO FAT SHAMES PEOPLE AND TALKS **** ABOUT CHILDREN TO ANYONE WHO WILL LISTEN!!!! i'M ******* RUDE?!?!?! I'VE NEVER STOOD UP FOR MYSELF AND IM DONE WITH IT!! You have 2 ******* choices, either change and treat me like a human instead of an animal! Or I'm leaving. I'm moving the **** out and taking matters into my own hands. Try to stop me. I'll tell DHS about you pretending to call the cops on my brother and saying he was trying to stab you (He wasnt) all because he came home. I'll tell them about you locking jake out of the house when he had a fever of 112 and he nearly DIED. I'll tell them half of the **** you do and you'll be in prison faster then you can come up with some ******* lie. WHAT YOU ARE DOING IS ILLEGAL. Even if you arent my legal guardian it's still considered neglect and child abuse. So come at me. Either you shape up or I leave because I'm NOT gonna sit here and listen to some random ***** tell me I'm a **** up IM useless IM nothing. I am worth it. I deserve happiness, i deserve to be able to leave my room without having anxiety attacks. I deserve to be able to have a self confidence that doesnt revolve around what you think of me. I want to be happy. And if i keep getting everything taken away for a simple mistake and never being able to live it down, I'll never be happy. Just ******* let me  breath, let me **** up, I promise if oyu stop suffocating me then I'll come to you with my problems, but if you keep suffocating me and making me scared to even ask when dinner is that'll never happen.
Michael Kreitman Sep 2015
Ive been fat my entire life.
Things I've tried.
B12.
Eating disorders
Bulimia
Obsessive exercise
Dieting
Not dieting
Throwing up
I'm less fat now
My ribs don't show
I wish they would though.
Ive been fighting an eating disorder since I was 16 years old. I was afraid of being weighted. I used to ***** to calm down not to lose weight. I lost weight with a diet of salad  olive oil Vinegar and bread rolls.
This is not a poem.
This is my dedication to a man who touched my soul and gave me the gift of the most valuable knowlege I have ever gained in school.
I do not know how to explain Mr. Fowler in a paragraph and I feel as though any representation of him in just one small paragraph would be inadequate.  However I will do my best to share with you how he impacted my life my ninth grade year.  Ninth grade is a major transition year for everyone.  New people, new school, and still a little bit of that middle school juvenescence.  I was no exception to such awkwardness (as much as I'd like to believe I was) and Mr. Fowler inspired me even on the first day.  He had a passion for biology and even more than that he had a passion for dispensing his knowledge (as well as his own meandering thoughts) to his students.  He expressed his love for his work to us often; mostly just sprinkling it over his enthusiasm for a lab or whatever we were doing that day.  I may not have had an ideally left-brain thought process as you would wish for an honor biology student and yes I did struggle but Mr. Fowler would not have ever left me behind.  However he did not only touch my life academically.  For three weeks at the beginning of my second semester in high school I was absent due to depression, cutting, and bulimia.  My mind was at war with me and I told my parents I needed help.  They checked me into a rehabilitation center for the next three weeks. While out of school North Springs was not easy to get in touch with. In fact they didn't even answer my mothers calls to get my work until I was finishing the program and coming into school the next day.  Due to my school's lack of organization and incompetence I was three weeks behind and kept falling further and further.  I was supposed to be put on a plan by my school to make my recovery less stressful and to help me catch up.  That did not happen either.  My school didn't even count my absences excused despite the hospital notes… Two months passed and I was even more behind and growing more fearful that I would have to repeat second semester until I went to Coach Cushman and Mr. Fowler.  Mr. Fowler offered me support and I will never ever forget how kind he was too me.  He told me we all have health problems but that doesn't mean we can't move forward it just takes a little confidence and work.  He let me come talk to me whenever and gave me passes to stay after class.  He has a beautiful mind and a caring heart, and although it was severely hard for me to reach the level of understanding of the material that I had missed not only in biology but in every other subject I passed.  I cannot express my gratitude towards him for I may not be a tenth grader this year without his help and patience.  My condolences go to his family as well as the family he has with the North Springs staff.  I would also like to say that though Mr. Fowler may not be with us in a physical realm he is still here with us in spirit and one of the many lessons I believe should be taken away from his time with us is that you should love your work.  If you do not live for what you do, you are simply doing the wrong thing.

— The End —