"ednos" poems
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
I hate you
But I need you
You break me
Yet I pursue you
You burrow deep into
My soul
Weeding
Weeding out all
My inner fears
And presenting
Them to me proudly
Ev
er
Y
Day
I fear your power
Yet long your presence
You claw your way into
My guts
I purge you out
So many time
Yet every time
You remain within me
I pray for freedom
Yet hold the key
Scared you'll leave
Scared you'll stay
I need draining
Detoxing
Filtering
Burning
To rid your presence from
My time ...
What scares me most
Is how you grow
And pass among
The lonely souls
I long for a day
Where you are no more
A fleeting nightmare
A sickening joke
You've taken friends
Of many sorts
Never fussy
For your curse
Bulimia. Anorexia. EDNOS. Binge Eating
So many masks you own
I pray a day
when mine
Is
Thrown .....
!Eating Disorders need bombing!
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
BPNOS
EDNOS
PTSD
MDD
OCD
I am each
And
All of these
Cursed
But
Blessed
They
Make
Me,
Me
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
I thought I could purge all the flowers and metaphors trapped inside my rib cage with stems tickling my esophagus.
Blooming on the tip of my tongue, teeth locked them in but finger allowed escape.
Hand prying its way through my mouth, I wished to pull out my intestines and allow the stitches holding me together unravel.
Beauty doesn't thrive in an abandoned building so I let them free, no sense carrying casualties in a house destined to burn.
I remember the first time I prayed to the porcelain throne, begging for salvation.
A feeling manifested in my stomach and infected each vein, it swam through bone marrow leaving behind a trail of decay.
My framework was rotting and mind consumed, knees fell to the ground and I prayed for forgiveness, acceptance and peace.
Every time I vomited I felt one step closer to heaven, as if entrance to the gate had weight restrictions.
You stepped on a scale before they sewed on your wings, for all angels have to be pristine and my soul carried the weight of an eternity of mistakes.
I was a coward hiding behind a romanticized disorder to avoid reality.
The light has grown within, it keeps my food safely in my stomach lining and let's my words out,
A lesson I've been unable to face for years.
I remember the day I was diagnosed with EDNOS.
Eating disorder not otherwise specified.
I wanted to punch the specialist in the face with my emaciated knuckles for degrading the massacre I instilled on my body.
Not bulimia. Not anorexia. Not specified.
She tied me to a label that said the years I dedicated to restrictions and malnutrition and stomach acid dissolving the very foundation of my teeth meant nothing.
**** your dsm 5th edition and the ****** waiting room keurig green tea with low calorie sweetener you provided for each session.
I found a reason to live within myself.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC
We are who we are, because of what they are.
The need to be perfect. The need to be thin, skinny, beautiful and popular. The need to be in control. Self-destruction our only friend. Anorexia, bulimia, and ednos, our sicknesses. Self harm - the only way we know how to control our pain. Suicide... The the only way we see as a means to escape. **** molestation and abuse filled our sick childhoods and now we all pay the price for it. We pay with the blood from our veins, the ***** from our stomach's, the tears from our eyes... We pay for their crimes until we are empty and can not give any more.
We are what we are, because of what they are. And we scream out for help. We cry for forgiveness. We do anything we can to beg for mercy and yet, no one answers. So we cut, and we starve, and we purge until we have withered away to nothing but scarred up bones. Just empty shells of the kids we used to be... And still they don't notice. So we try to **** the pain inside... Over dose. Hanging. Gunshot. Slit wrists.
And then... they notice... But for us, it's already too late. They made us who we are. Whether or not we succeeded, we are already dead inside.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 11:10 AM UTC
Depression- Deb
Suicidal- Sue
Anorexia- Ana
Bulimia- Mia
Self- Harm- Cat
Schizophrenia- Sophie
Bipolar-Bri
ADD/ ADHD- Addie
Ednos- Ellie
OCD- Olive
Borderline- Bella
Paranoia- Perry
Insomnia- Izzy
Maybe, Just maybe our worst nightmares are real.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 10:19 AM UTC
Curves melting away
Numbers dropping
An obsessive measurement of worth
One food at a time
Or
Consider mixing it all together
Counting bites
Counting grains, kernels, seeds
Counting times chewed
26 waist
32 hip
5 wrist
11 neck
7 forearm
30 ribcage
17.8 bmi
16.3 body fat
98 lbs
Obsessively memorizing
Remeasuring
Plugging in numbers
Worrying if you look sick
Collar bones too defined
Hip bones jutting out just too much
Getting scared
Binging
Purging
Feeling deliciously empty
Thinking clearly
Everything fuzzy at the edge
It ain't a ******* joke
Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 12:24 PM UTC
There comes a time that you hit rock bottom
You don't have all the worries but it feels like you got em
You cry and you claw and you climb and you shout
But you know without question there's no way out
It's so dark you wave your hand in front of your face
Still all you see is a black empty space
And the marks on your features like wrinkles in the past
Hold tight to the pain that you thought wouldn't last
But here you are today in the darkness
Alone
Wondering where you went wrong...why you're not skin and bone
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 9:07 AM UTC
I am trapped inside myself
Inside this flesh and bone
This vessel
Used to be numbered 5
When it was sick
Now 18
I want to leave this cage
Find a new one
Feel beautifully hollow again
Sick or not
I don't care
Sick is better than this
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 12:17 AM UTC
Dear EDNOS,
Make up your mind,
Are you an eating disorder?
Or are you perfectly fine?
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 7:22 PM UTC
I cannot wax poetic
About the feelings on this flesh
I have no pretty way of wording
The destruction I desire
There's no beautiful way to say
I want to cave in
Until I am barely here
Until I am bone
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 12:19 AM UTC