"calorie" poems
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
I love chocolate chip cookies
Be they soft or be they crunchy
They are my favorite munchie.
I love them by the pound.
The best snack around.
My love for these cookies
Surpasses my love of ice cream.
They are more than what they seem.
They make my day and then more so.
Even though they make my **** grow.
Chocolate chip cookies
They are my very best friends.
I am sure these cookies
With stick with me to the end.
I can count on them to please me.
Cookies never ever tease me.
I love chocolate chip cookies
Whether they are baked at home
Or just purchased on the roam.
If they are professionally made,
Gifted to me or I have paid.
Nothing else tickles me so much.
I start giggling when I first touch
Those delightful little sweet plops.
Don’t bother calling the calorie cops.
Chocolate chip cookies
They are my very best friends.
I am sure these cookies
With stick with me to the end.
I can count on them to please me.
Cookies never ever tease me.
I love chocolate chip cookies
I know it started when I was a kid;
What those rolls of dough did
To me was transform me instantly
Almost to carbohydrate insanity.
I could eat as many as I touched;
I loved them just exactly that much
And it continued on into adulthood.
Chocolate chip cookies are that good.
Chocolate chip cookies
They are my very best friends.
I am sure these cookies
With stick with me to the end.
I can count on them to please me.
Cookies never ever tease me.
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
You may think it's funny.
Plain teasing.
Just girls having fun but you don't know.
You don't know what I've struggled with.
You weren't there all those nights when I cried myself to sleep because I was not thin like them.
All the times I would skip meals and tell my mom I had eaten elsewhere.
All the times I survived on water for the whole day.
All the times I came this close to sticking a finger down my throat and emptying the contents in my stomach.
It took me so long to feel okay and comfortable with myself.
Until you said that word.
It's funny how one word could have such an impact on me but you don't know my struggle.
When I got home after that, all I could see in the mirror was fats.
I had begun to determine my self worth by my calorie intake and the size of my waist.
I hated myself once again.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 6:03 AM UTC
Covering ourselves in night cream, we fight our wrinkles, and buy anything that says anti-aging.
We want our skin to stay frozen.
Frozen in a time when we didn't even appreciate the glow of young skin.
Spent our entire youth hating what we saw in the mirror and doing everything we could to keep it covered.
Under thick masks and dark outlines we tried new products, techniques, designs,
Searching for one that made us feel pretty.
We let - no - we pay doctors to stick long needles into our soft features and change them with chemicals making us less human and more plastic
and that's just our face
our bodies? we do so much worse
Starving ourselves till our heart shrinks in the only thing running through our brains is you are fat, you are fat, you are fat, and who is to blame us when everything we see is telling us to believe that
“I run so I can eat” “I work out because I love food”
These words are printed on shirts that we wear when we should feel powerful but instead send the messages that you don't deserve to eat unless you earn it
Burning every last calorie until we are empty again
We work so hard on fixing our bodies, but maybe that's not what's broken maybe the repair work is needed in our heads and in our hearts tweaking until we can find a connection of love between our bodies and our minds.
The same genuine love you have for your mom, or your dog, or your daughter
Unconditional, Everlasting,
When will we learn to love ourselves?
Oct 23, 2021
Oct 23, 2021 at 10:45 PM UTC
is it wrong
that those
in love
make me
want to *****
lying on my back?
so that the
900 calorie
barbecue cheeseburger
that i ate for dinner
kills me in a manner
other than
clogging my
already corroded arteries
once you're alone
it seems as if
everyone is together
and it makes you
wonder, who
was writing
sick, twisted
poetry
about you and
your lover,
holding hands
and staring into
each others eyes,
as if irises
hold all of the
answers and
promises
to a beautiful
life
May 6, 2011
May 6, 2011 at 10:48 PM UTC
Though as innocent as she looks,
An evil deception she cooks.
Plotted events,
she disguised as Destiny
Flaunts her perfect body,
But behind the curtains counts every calorie
A hint of arrogance,
while saying "I'm just ordinary"
Compliments given
As a product of her calculating eyes
Thus your ego being fed with her lies
Her hidden smirk,
Behind her pretentious worries
Those men, they fell, to her made up stories...
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
34
24
34
the numbers controlling my life
the numbers that i strive to be
pure perfection
causing my body to eat itself
while it withers away
into nothingness
im exhausted
trapped in hell
a hell created by numbers on a measuring tape
just one less calorie and i'll be okay
i'll be happy
finally beautiful enough
300
the calories fueling me through my days
as i drag along
until i find myself
closer
to the edge
of self destruction
deeper in hell i fall
trapped even further in the darkness
praying i can find my way
back to the light
back to sanity
ugh
i want my life back
i want to know what it is like
to wake up in the morning loving yourself
to look in the mirror not hating
every aspect
of the person
in front of you
to get through a day without
having to shield your face
to hide the burning tears
rolling down your cheeks
to not have the
destructive thoughts
waiting
to drag you though the dirt
when you think you are finally okay
i want to know what it's like to be me
again
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 10:44 PM UTC
A tourture that breaks and distorts my mind
Every calorie cafrefully chosen
Written in a journal
Every thing ive eaten since 8th grade
No breakfast
Running out the door a weitght in my stomach
No lunch
Drinking a monster
10 more calories than I need
Vaping in the bathroom
Dinner
Dreaded dinner
I have to sit and eat with my family
No excuses
Work it off after dinner
Do I go there
Do I sit on the floor racking my lungs
I can feel the fat settle on my bones
Crying myself to sleep
Repeat
Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 1:09 PM UTC
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
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 4:36 PM 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
Cup cakes are fun
Cup cakes are perfect..
Cute ones, lovely ones..
A mouth watering desserts a lovely decorations..
A bite of a tempting looking cupcake.
Fill your life with joy
Just gazing at one bring a smile on your face...
If i were to make a cupcake today
What flavor would it be?
Would it be chocolate, would it be vanilla?
Would it be strawberry, blueberry or a mixture of both?
Red velvet they say
lets give it a try..
My lovely cupcake
makes me forget the calorie
where are you now?
where has it gone now?
i wish it were here
at the wave of my wand
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 9:37 AM UTC
when i look
in the mirror,
i do not see the
“oh my god, you’re so skinny,”
i do not see the
“you need to eat more,”
not the
“there’s no way you’re not anorexic,”
not the
“i wish my body looked like yours.”
when i look
in the mirror,
i see the
“you’re fat,”
i see the
“she’s skinnier than you,”
i see the
“you need to be skinny, or you won’t get a husband,”
i see the
“eat less,”
i see the
"you need to be the skinniest one in your friend group,"
i see the
trans fat
saturated fat
cholesterol
sodium
dietary fiber
sugar
protein
Calorie Count.
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
Doubt
So easy to say.
So hard to get past.
I've always had a little bit of it reflected inwardly because I've never been able to attain the appearance I wanted. I've never been quite thin enough. My hair has never been quite long enough. My skin never quite clear enough. And because of this its caused me to doubt other areas. If I can't get in peak physical shape, what makes me think I can become financially independent? Get a good job? Start my own business? If I can't control something as simple as a complexion, hair follicle or calorie, how do I think I can take on the outside world?
It's the doubt that eats you.
It's the doubt that tucks you into your grave with the could haves because you cancelled yourself out.
You're problem is not in your thighs or uneven eyebrows. Your problem is you think they're your problem.
Stop taking yourself out.
You are worthy.
You are so. worth. loving.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
On one of the myriad bays
along the Maine coast. Keep the holocaust
at bay I said to Dave because
you’ll spend all day gathering
2,000 calories and still be miserable hungry.
An undiminished population of humans is risible.
Black spruce and balsam fir,
you can eat the inner bark
in a starvation emergency.
There’s plenty of Cornus—bunchberry—
each orange pith around the stone
worth maybe a quarter calorie.
Lots of sarsparilla but the fruits
not out yet and to date I have not
savored one. Let’s see—dandelion
of course and huckleberry but
the most important source of sustenance
would be seaweed.
Learn your mushrooms! for the protein.
Accept the situation
come the apocalypse.
I struggle against my insignificance
but it would be better to struggle
against my ignorance.
Less effortlessness, more fishermanliness.
That’s the lesson of this Maine vacation
there’s a lot you can eat when in need—
the hips of roses and the pips of grasses.
And an endless supply of seaweed—
bladderwrack, dulse, kelp and thin green lettuce.
Sep 12, 2023
Sep 12, 2023 at 6:09 AM UTC
My friend Ana has many followers.
She feeds us promises and fills our dreams
when we cannot, will not, sate the cries
of our bodies because those are easy to hush
during the din of day, but not in the void,
night when
my friend Ana comes through a glowing
screen in the form of thigh gaps, community forum posts,
and calorie counting apps where our intake dwindles,
anticipating the moment we take in the waist of our skirts
so maybe that boy with the blue-jean eyes notices
our size 0 because on a scale of 1 to 10, we don’t fit.
My friend Ana remains forever in our minds,
teaching us to listen to our inner strength as muscle tone
ebbs, seething when we reach for some bread, but loving
the sweat-drenched skin as we run nowhere on a treadmill that we believe leads to a salvation as perfect as the symmetry of ribs—
of cheekbones that jut out from a thin and beautiful face
which smiles at muted murmurs and falls as I look
in the mirror at bodies shaped so divine, you might see
premature grace because
Ana never dies.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
TW : eating disorder, suicide attempt, abuse
In my phone
There’s a contact name that’s just swear words
The occasional bad bad word that I can say in therapy but don’t in public
And it’s my mom’s contact name
I changed it after our 1millionth fight
Right before I left for uni
Because she called me fat
And at the time I was five months sober of my eating disorder
Maybe sober isn’t the right word but whatever
And my brain snaps
I scream and cry
She screams back at me
I call her “fat” back because I’m mad
And I spend the night sobbing
I even call my abusive dad who chose to leave therapy because he thinks he’s getting better
He hasn’t left his girlfriend who restricted food from me yet so, are you sure Dad?
And he tries the whole facetime while I audibly cry to not sound mean about her
And I thank him for trying in my head
Because my mom only refers to him as slurs or Satan
I eat the entire cake she got me in the fridge the next day
Before even noon
I feel bad immediately after but at least she can’t have any
And then I’m suddenly jealous that she didn’t have any
So no weight gain
I drink two cups of iced coffee with that extra calorie Starbucks syrup
And then my sister gets me Popeyes
She gets me this after yelling at our mother
Because we don’t really talk that much openly
But we both have our own scars from her words
Mine developed into eating disorders, cuts on my legs, and just general mental illness
Hers just developed into being a rock solid wall
When my mom comes home and sees me eating
She takes a bite
Aug 20, 2022
Aug 20, 2022 at 11:07 AM UTC
She had this obsession with the sea,
I didn't understand.
She spent all summer there,
laying in the sand.
I never liked the beach.
Or at least I never liked the effect it had on her;
how she counted every calorie so she could wear a bikini,
how her heart-shaped sunglasses covered her eyes, her stunning eyes.
I never fully understood her.
Perhaps I should've spent less time
trying to figure her out
and more time by her side.
She wasn't one of my experiments,
she used to clarify that all the time.
And maybe she was right.
Now that she's gone there's nothing left to try to understand.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
Here's to the...
Calorie counter
Long sleeve wearer
Excessive water drinker
Mirror believer
Professional over-thinker
Clever liar
Hair puller
Tongue biter
Thigh hater
Toilet bowl hugger
Magazine lover
Belly fat ****
At home cryer
Bedroom hider
Internet follower
Social stink bug
One sided therapist
Friend loser
Terrifying truth
Reality dodger
Space-brained
Nicknamed
Love rejector
Anxiety collector
Roller coaster rider
Personal antagonist
Perfection chaser
Hopeless dreamer
Nothing achiever
Unnoticed angel
Silent rainbow
Blood seeker
Soul-searching rebel
Wilting rose
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
jeans that are a little bit too tight
numbers on the scale that you have to fight
she wanted it badly, she stayed up all night
to her, the future seemed bright
online articles about low-calorie diets
no-carb, low-carb, high-protein try-its
she thought it was the perfect way
to lose that extra layer, so they say
she noticed it working on tuesday at noon
it was working, working so soon
she was pleased with the results it gave
soon it became less to eat and more to crave
she thought she had it all under control
who cares if she ate less than one bowl?
she never ate until she was full
soon she faded away and her eyes became dull
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 11:51 AM UTC
sleepn to dreams splitn the seams on what seems to be unseen
floatn from scene to scene.
exposing the dimentions as an interstellar time traveller
high above on DMT the brains craving pleasure from the endorphine
eyes closed walking through rows of roses of syncronicity.
I see old growth trees from sea to seeing all with inner eys of sympathy.
our vehicular carcass is a calorie burning
cardiovascular cacarborated dream machine
Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 9:06 PM UTC
Cold Diet Coke
Administered intravenously
Injected into my veins
And fueling my anxiety.
First, it was only a few
Drops to keep me ready,
But now it's full gallons
And even that's not quenching.
People always ask me,
"Why push milligrams and ounces
Of cold Diet Coke?
It'll make you choke.
After time, you'll croak.
You're such a stupid bloke,
Pushing Diet Coke."
To this I have to say that you
Are quite mistaken, sir.
I only do it because I am
Addicted to the tiny bubbles
In my fizzy bloodstream.
I know it's very dangerous,
But I haven't died quite yet.
I might just try some other kind
To fix my upset stomach.
"Zero calorie soda,
Amazing as it is,
Though it tastes delicious to you,
Isn't healthy food.
It's gonna cause an issue.
You're still depressed and blue.
Your face is green in hue."
Again I must say you lie
To steal my fleeting happiness.
I need the drip, drip, dropping through
My swiftly closing arteries.
I don't have much time left,
And I'm at Death's bright doorstep.
I'm taking my final breaths,
And I'm on my deathbed.
I just want to tell you
You made me do this.
It's your fault.
You're to blame.
Yours is the shame.
You outlive yet another son.
You could've saved this one.
My chances are slim to none.
I approach the glistening sun
As the fungus and rot outrun
The weight of death o'er a ton.
May 10, 2021
May 10, 2021 at 3:14 PM UTC