"bulimia" poems
The stomach pain is horrendous
The taste of dessert coming back
The look of disaster
stab me, choke me, **** me
The disapproval upon the faces
The miserable sounds in the background
The insecurity peaking out
save me, help me, rescue me
The choke before the gag
The spit before the rest
The death in my stomach
take me, be me, please
The blood in my gums
The ache in my throat
It's over–
I'm alright again.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
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
Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
knuckles rubbed raw by
teeth so sharp and blunt
a tongue rough and silent
violent retching
self-harm for a throat
already held by a noose
she promises
just
one more cookie
one last bite
one last calorie
one last breath
one
the toilet bowl is her best friend
and she hugs it close
when no one can hear
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
No matter how many times he hurts you
No matter how many times he wrongs you
No matter how many times someone tells you how dangerous he is
You crawl back
You crawl back with a head full of muddled thoughts
Searching for satisfaction
Convinced that he’s your salvation
Each time you lie next to him
In a fitful sleep
Bearing your guilt as he sleeps smugly and soundlessly beside you
Because he knows that no matter how much you fight
You’ll be back
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
Words,
They could never hurt,
They could never cut,
They could never make you bleed,
Physically.
Words,
A manifestation of self-hate,
Written in bold,
Anorexia, Bulimia, Depression,
I was sold.
Words,
The last,
Written on a bloodstained note,
"I can't stay afloat"
Apr 23, 2021
Apr 23, 2021 at 10:30 AM UTC
She had bony legs and protruding hips
A hushing whisper on her lips
Those words that, long forgotten or even told
explain that bulimia had her in a choke hold.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
Bulimia is a scary thing.
That is a fact.
She'll cradle and choke you.
But she'll get rid of the fat.
Bulimia is a scary thing.
But this is for sure-
The burning in your throat and mouth
Will not be the only sore.
Bulimia is a scary thing.
Late at night when you're alone
She'll be with you
Kneeling at the porcelain thrown.
Bulimia is a scary thing.
Because very soon
She'll have you dreaming
Of being a thinspo.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
Society is so focused on being flawless. Perfect. No one is flawless, not even Beyonce. We will forget who we are on the inside, and soon that won’t even matter because the physical appearance is the main priority. Women these days are spending so much effort trying to look perfect, which hurts. Pretty hurts. Society is expecting women to look perfect, otherwise people will judge. ‘Perfection is a disease of a nation’. The showbiz industry is giving a negative message to the world. Photoshop is one of them. Making a celebrity look flawless is fooling the world into thinking we must look like that. Spending so much money on clothes, hair etc. but we don’t need to focus on that because all that matters is on the inside, which most people don’t seem to see anymore. We are constantly getting the messages in our mind that we must be flawless, and sooner or later, this is a disease. Some of us can’t take it anymore, which leads to anorexia, bulimia, insecurities, and issues with body image. Pain also takes over our minds, which is ridiculous. Even celebrities have gone through this because in our naïve little minds, we are thinking we have to be pretty. There is so much pressure it takes over our minds, and that’s the only thing we think about. We look into the mirror despising ourselves, because we are who we are. Society has created us into thinking there’s a certain way we must look, which there is not. Our flaws make us who we are, makes us positively different. Unique. But we aren’t allowed to think that way because the media isn’t allowing us to. When people change, they are only cheating on themselves because media displays images of what we should and shouldn’t look like. It’s not their fault though. They can’t help it. Changing, like getting botox or body implant is only giving us a masquerade. It’s a mask to hide our real, inner beauty, which the media has taken the idea away from us, to become people who we actually aren’t.
And in the end, we know that pretty hurts.
a.a.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
As a child I would eat crayons and then purge oceans onto paper.
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
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
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
I am destroying my body
With every purge I take
And the sickest thing is
I am perfectly fine with it.
Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
Poetry is a disease
Words sit in your gut like rotten meat
You hold onto your stomach for dear life
'Cos it's full of knives
There's no choice but to stick your pen down your throat
And bring it all up
Yeah, poets can't tie knots
And they don't own a pistol
And all that venom just stifles and stinks
But you can close the book
And close your eyes
Ready to hate yourself tomorrow
Aug 13, 2012
Aug 13, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
when the urge is too strong
and my head is muddled with thoughts and crazieness
I dive into the toilet
the eye of the storm, the only calm
And after, sing myself to bed
with my raw throat and ****** teeth
and lie in a fitful sleep
choking on waves of guilt and *****
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 11:32 PM UTC
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.
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
It follows my movements
behind a seashell,
every few steps
it drops the cup
over it's shoulder
prolifically it shifts
positions, so do I,
as slight of hand.
If the secret of love
is buried in his armpit,
and it is, maniacally.
Tho' not the kind
you buy at the movies,
of optimist derringers,
smoking guns.
Still,
flight begins when
the sun goes down
it shifts euphemistic trees
like shadow puppets
into walls of passion,
makes bulimia dreams
of doughnut holes,
something sweet
craving bakery counters
and bagels take up
the lonesome place
still ringing in our ears,
my ears,
placards hanging lobes
of the emotionally distressed,
handicapped dangle
I can't move my tongue
...again.
But, they still hear love
whisper their name
just before
the dawn becomes.
Sunny rising sonic
boom that scatters the birds
all into synchronized
sign language.
We strain,
to hear them sing anthems
over the roof tops,
it makes us happy to hear
every time,
just one more time.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 9:56 PM UTC
Eat as much as you can fit,
then throw up every last bit.
Be quiet so no one hears,
when you’re done wipe all your tears.
Just once more and I’ll stop,
avoid every single food shop.
Shove a toothbrush down your throat,
watch the previously eaten food float.
Thoughts of getting fat making you feel sick,
throw up what you ate you can’t get thick.
Aug 2, 2023
Aug 2, 2023 at 7:41 AM UTC
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is being told to pass on the pumpkin pie
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is being scrutinized over everything you ingest
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is being met with questions no matter what you eat or don't eat
"Have some more potatoes, Sarah"
"Haven't you had enough yet?"
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is a double standard wrapped up
In a pretty floral bow
Just like the cornucopia in the table's center.
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is a broken tradition fixated not on giving thanks
But on her every movement in regards to her plate
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is only eating half her helping
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is throwing up each and every bite of it
Into a porcelain garbage bin exactly thirteen minutes later
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is perfecting a purge
Stand up and lean
Time it just right
Dry heave first.
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is the second to last time she sees her grandpa
And she cannot even focus on family
Because this disease has intertwined itself into the crevices of her mind
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is her worst nightmare and her favorite holiday
For she is constantly under surveillance
But no one questions her habits that day
So she is free to be sick as often as she likes.
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is counting every calorie
Knowing exactly how much she needs to compensate for every particle of food
Polluting her system.
A fat girl's Thanksgiving is shoving things into her body
And immediately wanting them out
While having the means to get rid of them.
A fat girl's Thanksgiving has always been shared with her alter ego,
Bulimia.
A fat girl's Thanksgiving has always been a paradox
Hopefully this year she will be able to go alone.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
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
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
Believe me its easier this way
Useless, thats what I am
Lies pour out of my mouth
I’m sorry you got dragged into this
My knuckles are red and scared for a reason
I love you
And I’m sorry
Bet you
Everyone
Loves seeing me
Like this
Am I right?
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
"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
I don’t want to ever find myself apologizing to you today I am saying sorry by vomiting today I am saying sorry by not moving today your face is in my hand & I am kissing it today my body expands like lung cancer I am always writing about expanding bodies I am never not vomiting even when I am really not at all last night I got 4 hours of sleep this morning my headache is full of scraped knees today I do not move today I think about kissing you today I think that kissing you would not be very different from kissing a taxi today I think that I want to ignore you & kiss you forever & ever but I cannot do that if you ignore me today my stomach is angry at the world today I am in love with too many people today I am waiting for the world to thank me & I am waiting for an astronaut, a moon, a lit-up screen, ellipses in your rotten mouth, some beestings in my throat
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
eyes like little seaglobes
glass spinning in circles
so wide and unwavering;
a smile that stretched
real tight over
rugged english teeth.
you laughed at the darkest
of my most self loathing jokes
manic words of bulimia
and blow binges.
i fell in love with you second
you fell for me first.
did you think you could save me?
in many ways, you did.
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
We blame society for everything.
We fault magazines for turning innocent teenage girls
Into anorexic beauty queens.
We point fingers at the paper thin actresses on TV screens
For bringing bulimia victims to their knees,
Two fingers down their throat as they cough up that last bit dinner,
Along with the guilt and shame that comes with it.
We blame society, but we are society.
Who wrote those magazines?
Who created the ridiculous standard that you can only fit in
If your bones are showing through your skin?
Hunger is just a feeling; thin is a skill.
Your stomach isn’t growling because you’re starving.
No! It’s applauding you on a job well done,
On another day of nothing but celery sticks and diet coke.
Who cares if all of your hair falls out?
Who cares if you get dizzy every time you stand?
Who cares if the desire to be thin and meet this sick standard of beauty
Is slowly killing you, taking another piece of that innocent teenage girl
And turning her into a skeleton?
We, as a society, don’t care.
The magazines won’t stop printing
Because another high school kid got carried away.
Extreme, even deadly diets are a thing of today,
And yes, yes, they’re here to stay.
Sometimes eating healthy and exercising just aren’t enough.
Desperate times call for desperate measures,
And under this kind of pressure,
It’s hard not to give in.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 7:09 PM UTC
Dead breath came from aching fingers dancing to break barriers in my throat.
Sweetly I choked comfortably on my sadist pleasure...
Each sting was warm and still too kind.
I’d do it again and I’ll gladly pay that fine.
Hair fell swiftly like leaves in autumn...
I was a fool to know this was my rock bottom.
And still I exhale punishment for my grievous crimes
For someone who will never be satisfied.
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 2:30 PM UTC