"purging" poems
A Queen in waiting, a Princess no less.
Each day, a routine before being seen.
For some, a shadow and not of the eye.
The kind you'd find on that of a guy.
An army of pogonophobes in dysphoric confusion.
Each purging our wardrobes,
a repeated delusion.
A leading *******
from a pornographic circus.
The ***** under graduate from
a school of *** workers.
Your Hubby's vision in blue
is our secret down south,
'cause he wouldn't kiss you with
that ***** mouth.
So, I'll stop you there Sizzle Chest
with your cans of Stella
in your pristine white vest.
'Cause this is real easy,
even for you Mr ******
I used to be a Princess but
now I'm a Queen,
recently coronated
after all that I've seen.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Sacred fires burning bright
Purging the flesh of my being
Becoming one with the light
Scorching the cells of my mortal body
4 Illuminate
3 the masses
4 Self-immolate
3 to ashes
1 break
3 conciousness
4 cosmic I lapse
3 death cleanses
8 dissipate into the nether
4 essence of life
3 extinguished
4 the chains that bind
3 relinquished
1 Pain
3 Surging through
4 Serenity
3 Gleaming blaze
I, long to be cosmic,
dissipate into illumination
To, become the nether -
to lapse in lost
consciousness
Then I shoot off in space and time,
soaring through illusions
Light years from reality,
distant pixels
8 Obsessing through the tesseract,
6 scouring past illusions
7 beyond spatiality,
4 distant pixels
Drifting, no sense or feel
Flames of color, figments of my creation
Drift in-to the surreal,
Chasing fractals defragments my cognition
Dreaming in discordance
Life confined in simulation
A glitch in the matrix
Lies conceived through my perception
Breathe
I, long to be spectral,
fluctuate right through this oscilation
To, attain the ether -
planetary
cognizance
Then I shoot off in space and time,
soaring through illusions
Light years from reality,
distant pixels
Obsessing through the tesseract,
scouring past illusions
beyond spatiality,
distant pixels
Drifting, no sense or feel
Flash of colors, figments of my creation
Drift in-to the surreal,
Chasing fractals defragments my cognition
Dreaming in discordance
Life confined in simulation
A glitch in the matrix
Lies conceived through my perception
Breathe
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:46 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
You used to be joyful,
So carefree,
You used to eat.
You let her get to you,
You used to go out,
Now you only go to the gym.
You got ****** into it.
She controls you,
Telling you not to eat.
You’re too fat;
Not good enough,
Your thighs jiggle.
Rejecting food, purging,
Counting your calories.
You’re wasting away.
Your eyes are sad,
No life left in them.
As you weigh yourself,
All you do is get angry.
You took her away,
You made me lose my best friend.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 10:25 PM UTC
I will stumble bravely through this pain
embrace its hand firmly and delve into my shame
I am the keeper of every single guilty thought
that taunts my identity and keeps me stuck
I am tormented by memories that consume my mind
This soul has begun purging, I will no longer be blind
My eyes have witnessed many hateful glares
I’ve held back tears of sadness because those closest did not care
They minimized the trauma I had to endure
but this child inside of me has become the cure
Through courage and wisdom my story will be told
And the life I was meant to lead will begin to unfold
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
Sixth grade was the first time I remember feeling out of place in my own body. I tried on a shirt from the year before and realized I wasn't the same size anymore. I felt strange for a moment, then brushed it off. I threw away the shirt the next day. By the end of middle school I knew I was bigger than my friends, but I tried to avoid thinking about it. I just wanted to fit in like the rest of them.
Freshman year I got called fat and decided to make myself invisible. Treated every food as if it an allergy. Lost 30 pounds in 60 days. Told my parents I already ate. Told my friends I was eliminating junk food. Told no one my secret for years.
Gained my weight back then lost it just as quickly. The never ending cycle of starving, binging, purging.
Starving, binging, purging.
Starving, binging, purging.
Nobody notices when I fall off track because disordered eating is only cared about when the victim is skinny enough that you can see the evidence. I have been terrified for four years to speak out for fear nobody would believe me when I told them.
No one expects a bigger girl to not know how to feed herself.
There is something to say about a culture so warped that I get upset by the fact I don't have a stereotypical eating disorder body.
Sometimes I wish it was more obvious, so at least that way they could see how hard I'm trying to be perfect... To fit in.
America, am I not sick enough for you already?
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
Life has many milestones.
Each bringing a significant change to one's life.
Whether that be a birthday, a wedding, a child.
But it's difficult to admit the sadder milestones that we carry with us.
However these negative moments also have a significant effect on us.
This is my list of milestones I hate to admit.
But they have impacted me tramendously.
It's time I released them so I can look ahead.
Molested by a boy at age 4.
Countlessly ***** by my sister starting at age 5.
***** by my therapist at age 7.
Beat by my sister throughout childhood.
Bribed and verbally abused by my step father to condition me to keep my issues to myself.
Traumatized at 10 by my father and his ex due to a domestic abuse situation.
Almost drowned from my first public panic attack at age 16.
Harassed by a man at a concert at age 20.
Endured the hell that relationships always bring.
Attempted suicide twice at age 21.
And a man attempted to **** me at a party last week while I was intoxicated.
I know I'm not the only one with these difficult memories.
And knowing I'm not alone will always be my comfort.
But I'm letting it all out;
purging out the evil so I can be releaved.
And now my hope is to heal and become whole again in the healthiest way possible.
I can overcome these milestones.
I know I can.
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
he spends his time
rowing through the
rugged, blockaded channels
of my catharsis,
the bitter staccato
of ****** habit.
his love
can be as jagged
as gashes in an
Elvis Costello record
thrown against the wall--
the frayed words of the last love song
Billie Holiday ever uttered.
he is two
exclamation points lit on
fire, kerosene pumping through
tautly wound muscles and
caressing our funny bones with
sandpaper.
he is
dulcit woodwind melodies
and jilted viola strings,
epic poetry and grindhouse theaters,
McQueen gowns and thrift store bargains,
the kiss on the forehead
and the nudge for a *******
he is a double helix.
he is the beginning
and end of every sentence.
Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 3:45 AM UTC
i begin to arise
looking over into your gaze
so that i can feel you
breathless and shaken
with joy in your eyes
thirst overtaking the impulse
to feel how strong this love is
rubbing your skin
exposes the warm static throughout
im left without air
asphyxiating for pleasure
head rushing
groaning your name
please keep going
you keep our skin vibrating
and purging the toxicity of the world from us
taking in only me
you can feel my pulse
radiate from your sacral place
with you gushing out
like the words it takes to tell you
that i love you
and want to fill the empty spaces within
for a moment
i feel like we’ve become one
our bodies sing
heavenly tones echo within the confines of this home
with archangels watching over
as we fulfill our celestial fate
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 11:30 AM UTC
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just cutting,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just you hate yourself,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just starving,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just burning,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just beating,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't always your fault,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't always there fault,
Self harm,
Self harm doesn't always lead to suicide,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't something proud,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just because you have depression,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just because you have anxiety,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just because you take medicine,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just because you have pain,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't something to brag about,
Self harm,
Self harm is not something to do for attention,
Self harm,
Self harm isn't just purging,
Self harm,
Don't harm it's addictive...
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 6:50 PM UTC
*Though, should I
or have I begun?*
To feel the tussling
Of blurring bodies.
Transforming and dancing,
Through these very halls.
Where aching is thick,
and a embrace is a release.
*Should I begin?
How should I begin?*
Swallow the dagger,
stabbing from behind.
Let it sit deep in my stomach.
Push it further, where it can’t cut.
*Where will it end?
How will I begin?*
Under lock and key,
Just where I left it .
It escapes as it did just now,
conjuring a puncture to bone.
Blood flows,
Rushes out into the world.
*Is this a release?
How can I heal?*
Pouring out,
It tastes salty on the cheek
The color is dark,
cold to the touch.
Purging the night,
that stained blood black.
Sifting the chill,
of steel from bone.
Ringing out whats left of gore and fluid,
down the drain.
*I can begin now.
This is the end.*
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 11:13 AM UTC
Gathered pieces of a great puzzle ;
refreshed perspective like ocean riptides
foment at the confluence collecting dark rivers’ flow
Repurposing back-eddies ,
rejuvenation of stagnant brackish waters ,
inherent buried soul-shine purging
from the ancient core of earth mother
Light arising from the hidden depths
of inner stillness as if a refilling wellspring
burst forth , reawakening muted sighs unspoken
Forming poetic constellations of black and bright
to lighten afar the nebulous darkness ,
a sea of swirling ink transformed into poetry
A sage opus renewed
by the muse of a migrating flock ,
striving to discover new sacred grounds ;
yet there is an undeniable song sung
in the howling winds of change
An incitement from a higher dialect
that empowers a restoration of spirit
Oeuvre uplifted by rogue waves
of summoning winds ,
arousing that which time erases
A manifest renaissance
among the rousing nuances
of poetic continuum ,
judicious to rediscover
the enthralling vastitude
of every breaking wave
in a boundless sea of poesy
Where prevailing currents
stir oceans of verse eternal ;
provoking a verve revival ,
the magnitude of an unbroken circle ,
ocean swells merging singularity
with the omnipresent colour
of uncharted depths
As if thoughts are assuaged
by a union of intimately touching souls
with words of intangible spheres ,
sparking subtle shades of meaning
spanning poetic immortality
Transcending barriers of unexplored lexicon
to manifest the immensity,
enkindling rhapsody of hearts and minds
Deeply rooted soul replenishment
harvested from the tree of humankind ,
willingly sharing without regret nor intention ,
with deference to the soul of one-blood,
one-love enabling an enlightening
metamorphosis of the human journey ...
© harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 11:48 AM UTC
You're worthless.
You can't even go a day without eating.
Even when you do you stuff your face just to puke it back up.
Why don't you just end it now?
You're ugly and no-one will ever want you.
Much less want to be with you.
You think that we made you tired?
That we are what's making you sad?
No. You did this to yourself, you worthless, ugly piece of ****
Why can't you be strong like the other girls?
Why don't you just quit eating and have discipline like they do?
We know it's because you're scared. You ******* coward.
Even we aren't the worst things that you deal with.
What about your little "habit?"
Be it drugs, self harm, purging, or alcohol. Just take your pick.
You deserve every little thing that's happened to you.
You'll never be enough.
You aren't worth it.
You never were.
Sincerely,
Ana & Mia
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 1:49 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
you are the Pres
Oh Donald Trump
it seems like America
has hit a bump
your pitiful braggart
mean as a cuss
a bludgeon for a mouth
with a mind full a ****
its understood
you hate the press
you like the shadows
to relieve your stress
well big boy
you are the man
some people say
your loved by the clan
thanks for telling us
about the size of your *****
while conservatives smile
and give it a lick
your a star studded pageant
of confusion and lies
do you work for Putin
are you one of his spies
show us your taxes
are you a ***** for a foe
are you owned by a devil
we need to know
your purging the swamp
is that what you say
Exxon and Goldman-sax
so thats how you play
you talk so big
why not give it a rest
lets see what you can do
besides be a pest
it doesn't bode well
that you don't pay your bills
let subcontractors go under
so what if it kills
break up some families
of Latin decent
with a heart like a razor
are you really that bent
are you big blabber mouth
but don't a have clue
about our constitution
that keeps us true
we trust you completely
let your kids to the job
no problem at all
are you still friends with the mob
are ethics for others
ah to hard for Trump
will America wither
are you cancerous lump
we need some one
who can help us out
not a reckless fool
that fills us with doubt
you are the Pres
Oh Donald Trump
it seems like America
has hit a bump
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 9:07 PM UTC
let's make a deal.
uncap the bottle,
discover my greatest work-
a soliloquy on sentience,
performed to an empty room.
the walls
are bleeding lead poisoning again
and i
am leaving logic behind.
the air is crisp on my wretched skin
and as the world dies
its aching breath helps me
to finally feel alive.
i am pure white.
let me rise, enlightened.
as i float, breathless,
i can feel, finally,
the weight of my bones.
make me into a sparrow,
feast upon my marrow,
so i can become porous-
but leave my hollow mind whole.
idolize me.
spin my disease into pure beauty.
a stone-cold rose
grounds the coffin for my dreams,
liberating me from responsibility.
awaken me.
strip my heavy corpse of its wings,
eviscerate the breath from my lungs
cease my tangibility
oh glory,
build me up
strip me down
to my knuckles and teeth,
to the weathered bone.
remove the bloodstains from my home.
if i bleed now
it will be beautiful
when i fall, i
will glorify the cement, decorate it
with my shining insides
when i come down
it will be stunning
it will be dreadful
and i will be resplendent
-but the delivery
won't change the content
candy wrapping
can't cover up the stench of death-
i have given up
on purging the necrosis from my tissue
i have found
this tantalizing muse once again, and
once more i
will let her put cigarettes out
on my sorry skin.
i've grown to love the smell,
that acrid poison
it almost covers up the scars
she leaves-
if i can make dying sound beautiful
then to hell
with us all
if you could romanticise suicide
you'd be rotting
too
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
The shame gets to me, creeping
guilt is killing me slowly, ever so slowly.
Bigger, bigger Purging the pain
Smaller, smaller, I'm going insane.
A ring is my net, Two fingers a gun,
Shoot me, I ask, Turning to dust.
Smaller to skinny, bones into nothing,
I beg you to save me, for death is
creeping slowly, ever so slowly,
toward me.
Feb 24, 2021
Feb 24, 2021 at 10:17 PM UTC
freak of nature
"selfish" screaming in my ears
I digress violently now
Whitman bleeding out of
my ears
I cannot bow
seventeen and furious
I am the poet of the
human skin; of violins
and softly fingered clarinets
singing of the dirt under
my fingernails
self-loathing--the evil twin
of guilt--is blinding
I cannot read graphing
calculators or the
future
but both seem empty
like the box under my bed
that used to hold pieces of my
soul (or I thought it did)
now I am scattered
I would like to
hold onto your hand
(I will be less abrasive this way)
instead of purging myself
of every doubt that
has rudely accosted me
in the marrow of
my simple human
structure
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
you're my smoke
and I'm your art
too addictive to stop
cant get enough
my expression comes from you
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 8:28 PM UTC
*if happiness was
a cake,
i wouldn't get
a slice.
i would circle around it,
smelling,
wanting & drooling
over it.
but never daring to
take a slice.
waiting for everyone to take
their share.
& when everyone has taken
one or two,
i see the empty cake plate
& sigh.
my stomach grumbles at me
again.
i am hungry, starved of food
again.
but i refuse to take a slice
of cake.
& like a sick girl, if i was offered
a bite
of someone else's slice & i ate it,
i'd *****
purging myself of the things i'm not
allowed to have.
because i'm not a girl who deserves
this cake.
& i cry myself to sleep asking myself
"why"?
why can't i just eat the cake
& be happy?
but i still refuse to take a slice
of cake.
because it seems so much easier
when i'm empty.*
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 9:03 AM UTC
Everything is getting so bad.
I am getting so bad.
It really is and I really am.
I have no motovation.
I just can't do anything.
I binge and I purge.
I'm using a cold blade to make myself burn with scars.
Again.
There is no home for me.
I sleep all day.
I've missed a dangerous amount of classes.
I need a job.
I have yet to process
Major things that are happening.
**** has been continuously hitting the fan
For seven years and
I just can't make it stop
And I can't catch a breath,
And the flashbacks are awful.
I just wrecked my thighs.
I don't want to burden anybody.
I know all I do is complain.
But it is literally me screaming for help.
And no one is helping me.
I'm up to my neck in my own mental disorders.
I'm drowning.
I really ******* am.
I walk around late night hope I'll get killed,
I stare at 163 sleeping pills every night.
I'm all late night binging and purging.
This is the ******* life.
I carry a toothbrush in my purse
And tell people I'm just obsessed with my tooth health.
I smoke to hide the smell of *****
I'm drowning.
I'm desperate.
I'm drowning.
Why are strangers offering more help
Than the people in real life that I'm begging.
I'm an adult now.
It's no longer the fault
Of the people who raised me.
I have waited for this day to come.
The day where all of the sudden
The blame shifts to you.
I'm still drowning.
I'm dying.
I'm drowning.
I know I should stop cryjng for help
And just get it myself.
But I used up all my strength
I really did.
And I will be perfectly fine
With just dying.
I really would be.
I'm drowning anyway.
Might as well make it literal.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 5:17 AM UTC
Which Is Greater?
I break a vow.
A serious vow.
In a place, in this site,
Where the fluid pain
Is the water of the world,
The element that is crux,
The amniotic liquor of creative flux,
The morning juice,
The afternoon caffe,
The first beer of the day,
The liquid that we rinse and spit out our every day,
I will write about pain,
Arrogantly, as if there is any unused combination of
Letters, vowels and consonants left unspoken, *****
Having sworn not to, for pain is cumulative.
Asking myself,
Which is greater?
The pain of creation, inception, origination and birth,
The pain of wreck and ruin, destruction and death.
Homework Self-Assignment: Compare and Contrast
Suddenly, I am expert.
Creating a poem a day is very painful.
A poem that is the sum of
Reflection, research, and purging.
Once I wrote:
*The poem is the afterbirth,
A conflicts resolution, an outcome,
Battlefield debris, the residue of
An exacting vision, a sentiment surging,
And your army of words, inadequate to the task,
Fighting to capture that insight flashed,
Each word a soldier, disheveled,
Crying, let me live, let me be saved,
Let me make a poem,
Let it be inscribed upon my victorious flag.
The poem is the sweat left upon the brow,
Having exercised the five senses,
The salt of struggle and debate,
It's completion, each word,
Both a victory and a defeat.*
Suddenly, I am expert.
My mother is dying.
It is a process. Days pass,
She neither eats or drinks,
Yet she lives on.
I watch each labored exhalation,
A subtraction, a countdown,
It is as if she was returning each singular day,
Every word e're spoke, every dream dreamt,
she ever possessed to the atmosphere,
One breath at a time.
Is that painful?
It is for me.
Now you complain. They're different, not to be compared, et cetera.
Pain is pain,
Whether it is in the service of creation, or
Creative destruction.
Once I wrote:
*With each passing poem,
I am lessened within, expurgated,
In a sense part of me, expunged,
Part of me, passing too,
Every poem's birth diminishes me.*
So, one and the same?
Nope. Yes. But. Cannot one be the greater?
Yes, one is greater.
When I lay on my deathbed,
I will exhale the answer
Into the atmosphere
For your retrieval.
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
Past rolling hills
green valleys and beautiful woods.
Over falls wondrous
and meadows gold.
Through towns and villages
snow covered and cold.
Over oceans vast
and jungles deep
Lies,
the mountain mammoth.
Great stones
mere bones
before its sprawling feet.
Standing in awe
at its Gothic magnificence.
All creations lying under the shadow
of this monstrous heap.
They dance in reverence
they bask in the terrible embrace,
of the mountain mammoth.
This far away mountain
oh fiery fountain.
Oh ginormous mongrel
oh hideous evil.
Enveloping all life
purging all love.
Decimating madness
the end of all things.
Fear erupts from it
like water from a spring.
Darkness covers the mountain
darkness blacker then pitch.
Darkness that no light ever can touch
not even the stars
those resilient lanterns.
All hope is dashed at the walls
of the mammoth mountain.
All hope is forsaken at the foot
of the great fiery fountain.
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC