"slimmer" poems
people romanticize self-harm
as if it's nothing special
and really, no one is alarmed
everyone's stopped being careful
it's not just about the blood
it really eats your heart out
the suffering makes your head flood
and everything seems so loud
you can't just seek pitiful attention
saying "oh, look, i'm depressed"
you really do deserve a lecture
because the real deal would say so much less
cutting ruins your body
it also pierces your soul
you seek a friend or just anybody
but you always end up alone
the cup of coffee in the morning
is the only thing keeping you alive
the rest of the time you're crying
trying to get thoughts out of your mind
you've got a stash of blades
hiding under your bed
today your sister got engaged
and you might end up dead
you try to down twenty pills
with a chug of burning *****
maybe then you'd see flowery hills
but it's just likely to cause you trauma
you stare at your own blank wall
trying to find a slimmer of hope
and nobody's there to watch you fall
as you exit this life with some dope
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 4:27 PM UTC
I was told I was fat.
Shamed for my body, called names and all that.
I learnt to hate myself by them at that time.
They made me feel like being a little curvy was a crime.
So I started working on getting thinner, not for health or fitness though.
But because I thought that way I would be loved and accepted more.
I finally did become slimmer and i was happy.
I slowly started to regain the confidence that they had mercilessly stolen from me.
And just as it started getting a tad bit better, I was shamed for being short.
Couldn't they just let me live my life in peace or what?!
They crushed the little confidence i had gotten back.
Again in their stupid circle of high expectations and "physical beauty is true beauty" I was trapped.
I worked on getting taller everyday.
Crying myself to sleep when nothing worked at the end of the day.
And so they taught me time and time again to hate my body.
And I know I did, I am so sorry.
They said my acne was ugly and it needed to be hidden.
Going anywhere without makeup or not dressing girly enough was forbidden.
"No do not sit like that, talk like this, wear this not that, always smile."
They said these horrible things and silly me, I actually listened for a while.
But one day I decided I did not care.
So what if I didn't have what they called the "perfect figure" or the nicest hair?
I loved myself and that was it.
I was beautiful whether or not they believed it.
It was not an easy fight.
But I think I did alright.
They still say things all the time.
But I've grown to listen to just one voice, mine.
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 3:30 PM UTC
With each
CLICK
Our breath is held
Will he,won't he
Will he, won't he
The suspense is killing me
And....SHIT
Door left open still
Pestered by the plebeian chill
In this gay little coffee shop
Surrounded by the unrecognised talent of Brighton:sketch artist staring at me, writer on his laptop, songwriter etching vigorously with his pencil.
All of which aren't closing the door.
The eyes roll.
Labouring my body up, hammering my legs across the floor, turning the factory handle.
All is ask is for some carrot cake,filtrate water,polo jumpers, avocado salads,tiger bread, slimmer trousers, slipper sock , a toyger.
Click
And then images of Kim Jong un pass through my head.
If I ruled you'd all be dead
Firing squad for an open door,
Loud music on the train'll be no more.
Stop the screaming misbehaving brats
The rabble of Spanish students
All this PC stuff on the news, train seats filled with cans of *****
Suddenly
The artist strolls up
Let's down his cup.
Closes the door swiftly
And slips back in his chair
Oh, so there is a god.
I guess Jesus didn't lie.
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
Maybe it's the way her monarch hair reflected sunlight
Fluttering as if it were really a butterfly
Or maybe the constellation of freckles that painted her ivory skin
Perhaps the larger figure
Or that one tooth that didn't quite sit right
But no amount of hair dye can make my hair fly
My body they call a canvas will never quite catch the sun's attention
The slimmer body I hold will never be as curvy
And the train tracks
They aligned my crooked smile that he always loved on her
Now we never speak of the girl that was best friends with the sun
We pretend she never existed to keep from fighting or crying
He says he loves me now more than he ever did before
And I believe him
But only because the sunkissed girl ran away
And I was all that was left
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
A thought sometimes forms
I live too much
yet I do too little.
Woken at strange hours,
never asleep.
Rapt in raps
or wrapped in riddles
Chained to links
or hammered to handle
stubbed to bone
Mens et
Manus
There is time yet, I swear
To flourish
To dream
To make
To be
To do
To create
Will I?
We'll see
There's time yet to tell
Be yourself, they say
The best you you can be
But once more— Will I have time
To edit
I live less
I do less
Portfolio: empty
or at least, locked away.
Excitement too.
Blank slate
Blank palette
Is there any paint?
Can I truly make
excitement saturate?
Will I be able to place
value as I see fit?
Can the world be hewn slimmer, slicker
Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger
Tis daft I think, to amuse such a notion
But not necessarily so daft to be wrong
Emerson called it misunderstood,
Shaw found it unreasonable
But ay, theres the rub
That bed once made, must be lain in and
all dreams which might be had are alone not enough
Bloom effects don't work outside the movies.
Ideas are trash, these are recession times
Deflations made them a farthing a dozen
Started 10.03.11
Unfinished
D.B. Guy
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 2:57 AM UTC
Given up smoking
now doing one of them there
vaping things
e-cigarettes
keeping smoke clean
for all the rest of you
that complained
yes cherries in my head
are you all getting your vitamins
did not want to bring that up
but is your waste slimmer than mine
smiling here
sorry but just words.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
And the fish swim in the lake
and do not even own clothing.
– Ezra Pound
How would they style themselves for the net,
the little fishes of the lake?
Not robes of purity, Ezra,
but sequins cut from trash,
brands bright as lures,
fashioned to catch the eye, a glint of sun.
Would the big ones strap on knockoff fins
to flex in shark cosplay near the shore,
snapping reels in the reeds,
captioned #greatwhitevibes #apexpredator?
Would carp veil themselves in algae,
funeral couture,
posting stories of their grief in green?
Would they admire the fishery tags:
industrial piercings they can’t remove,
or the hook-slit scars from catch-and-release,
each one a verified badge,
proof they were trending once, briefly,
before sinking out of frame?
Would they tilt to the water’s glass,
checking which gill looks slimmer,
tails arched like influencers at golden hour,
the shimmer hiding shame,
the shame we taught them to wear?
Sep 14, 2025
Sep 14, 2025 at 2:34 PM UTC
What once is now was
My feet tread delicately over egg shells
Balance on unsturdy tightropes
My body's equilibrium thrown off
My legs shake like an earthquake of emotion
From outer to inner core, I see
A slimmer of green light, my american dream
I am the Great Gatsby
Holding onto a bit of the past
Desiring it to become the present
To the future of mine
Yet with soft words
I am met with inevitable flames of anger
A rage so powerful, so dangerous
So provoking, prodding me like a cow
The man I was born from
Whom is supposed to defend me
Is one that destroys me
His words conform, turning into a wrecking ball
Slam into my heart, destroying it
Pieces fall down like pebbles tip, tipping against a lover's window
Except it taps the windows of Satan
Awakening unknown, terrifying horrors
As bottles clink, can crash, alcohol splatters
So does the confidence I once had
mbm
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 6:47 PM UTC
On my way,
One day,
I met a handsome guy,
Who was on the seventh sky,
He told me I looked like a ****** ***
& with his sayings I was embraced
I cried & went to the mirror,
I asked,"Do I look good???
Am I too fatty or too slimmer??? "
Laughing at me it didn't answer,
I understood & was filled with tear,
Oh I didn't eat during day
& couldn't sleep in night,
It was like I wasn't made for this beautiful beauty filled site,
& hiding my face I went out, & stood aside...
I looked at the moon,
Jealous of his beauty I closed myself in my room...
I forgot the incident & was lost in the world of books,
No I wasn't at all focussing on my looks,
Oh after bending over backward for several months,
I got the fruitful results,
Now that handsome proud guy saluted me,
& the mirror couldn't match his eyes from me,
& now I stood in front of moon's fake light,
Asking it to ignite itself,
& be bright,
Else at his place, he will see myself!!!
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 1:47 AM UTC
I had never imagined the impossible
Never thought this would happen
But how could I deny
What was right in front of me
It was like looking in a mirror
But it wasn't exactly the same
She looked so much like me, only prettier
Slimmer, fitter, better in every way
She smiled at me
The same smile I knew too well
But something wasn't right
Something was missing
Chaos came next
My body petrified, my mind dazed
I couldn't move, I couldn't see
A second seemed like an hour,
A minute was eternity
When the fog cleared,
She wasn't there anymore
But yet she was, I could sense it
And soon I found out
She spoke to me, but
The sound came from my mouth
Then I realized, I wasn't me
Anymore, I was her
The missing was a soul
Now she had one, mine
And I was trapped for life.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
My voice
Was the highest soprano in the choir
And I was well past puberty.
My chest may never be
As flat as yours,
My shoulders will always be
Slimmer and daintier,
My waist tucks in and allows for
Hips,
Hips that make me cringe with every ******* breath
Some days.
I will never have
That bulge between my legs
That you so wrongly call manhood.
I lack the things you tell me
Make someone a boy,
And sometimes I even lack the guts
To disagree with you;
But **** if that makes it alright to throw me in gutters,
Beat me up behind smokey dive bars,
Yell at me on the city bus,
Take away my ******* humanity.
Because I am a boy.
I am a ******* human.
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 9:40 PM UTC
They say Ruffle Top!
the in thing nowadays..
Hurriedly you went for shopping
A pink Ruffle top..
gorgeous indeed..
splendid effect as you put it on...
but oppss...
do you look slimmer or larger?
as it hangs off of the widest parts of you
and all the slimmer parts are hidden
a fashion prey once again
fall to be victim of girly cuteness!
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
touch my face and feel my gut
it's knotted up, punctured and twisted
with knives of lovers lost
look at me with shame and forget me
no longer call me by my name, brother
i'm barren from the child i chose not to let be
yet still swollen from the emptiness
stepping on nails, sharp as i pace back and forth
tattered soles and tattered souls
can't overcome the obstacle without proper shoes
end my suffering with a needle or two
let ooze the regretful sorrow that feeds on my sanity
drain the abscess that is my conscience
my conscious mind
it throbs beneath my skin
and whispers secrets from hell, ear to ear
on sunny days
tiny voices and threatening reminders
of crimes not yet repented
committed in fear of solitude
ways to escape unknown, unwanted
negligent to what could be
because the what is distracts me
traps me
i must first love myself
to be loved by you
everyday is a chance to recreate
we know that
our limbs grow longer ingesting opportunity
but hear me when i shout to you from the asphalt
the world unwillingly grows smaller and smaller
and chances are slimmer, slander
ensures
luck be eradicated
because pieces of us
have been
amputated
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 12:22 AM UTC
If my blood could illustrate,
A picture to the world,
It will tell you the exact state,
How my heart pumps its hurt.
Each ventricle pumps emotions,
Pain, anger, hope,
Up to my brain,
And down to my toes.
Slithering through each artery and vein,
Blood carves my hearts pain,
In my head,
In my head.
Working through each capillary,
It forges anger and rage,
In my bones,
My aching bones.
After its done its work,
It fights back through each valve,
And pours back into the atriums,
Devoid of fury and pain.
It was used up,
Just like my tears,
My wasted energy for nothing,
It brought me no good.
Just more hurt.
And just slowly,
As the pain and anger dissipates from my system,
And fresh blood is packaged and sent,
From my bone marrows,
It brings along a slimmer of hope,
That this new cycle of blood would carry no more pain.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 4:36 AM UTC
I don’t remember the first mushroom I had.
I can’t remember the last time rainbow stars weren’t falling
from the sky, why I’m addicted to jumping on flagpoles,
or why I shoot fireballs after eating flowers.
I’m addicted, but it’s not a problem.
I think.
I can see flying turtles with wings.
They keep throwing hammers at me.
I punch bricks
hoping coins come out of them,
because I somehow got the idea
that if I got a hundred gold coins
I could buy myself a new life.
I want a life with a steamy
red hot princess
in a flowing pink dress
living in a bourgeois castle
where the smell of peaches
breathes life into every fiber
of my mustachioed being.
Sometimes I think my brother is green
with envy, when all he really does is pick daisies.
Why should he be jealous?
He’s taller, slimmer,
and he doesn’t have to work as tirelessly as I do.
But, I’ve always jumped higher,
reached further, and punched harder.
It’s not my fault he chooses to stay in my shadow.
That little *****
I sometimes ride on a green dinosaur's back.
I’m a baby floating away in a bubble,
and that dinosaur saved my life
far too many times to count.
He’s my best friend.
Sometimes I like to put on my blue hat
and pretend that I’m invisible.
Sometimes I put on my green hat
and pretend I’m as hardened as a mafia gangster.
I am Italian after all. It’s in my blood.
I want to quit, but I can’t. I don’t need to.
I’m doing fine with these mushrooms.
I feel larger than life with the red ones,
and the green ones
resurrect me.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
*I feel like river water.
And I don’t belong to stagnancy,
yet I’m caught in a lake.
•••
*I’m destined
to move silt and sediment.
And overturn
submerged pebbles
so they won’t see
the green of moss.
I’m meant to surge
and eat into banks
so I could be split -
to make more of me...
My reach would extend
far and wide -
like scraggly fingers
grabbing at the
face of the earth.
My energy channelling
through careless forks
and into slimmer branches.*
•••
My soul is river water....
And my heart renounces
the throne to idleness.
Yet I am,
but a lake.*
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 9:47 AM UTC
Should I grow my hair
Stop biting my nails
Lose a few pounds
Shave everywhere
Have a dainty nose
Clear skin
Lightly shaded eyes
Slimmer thighs
Should I change my speech
Never use profanity
Only speak when spoken to
Talk softly
Laugh lightly
Tone it down
Have a higher voice
Solemnly ever ramble
Must I change my entire self?
Goodness, no.
I know my worth and believe I am stunning in every single way.
Every.
Single.
Way.
May 4, 2022
May 4, 2022 at 1:29 AM UTC
Rolling down the hill laughing, tumbling not caring; free as I get coated in grass stains and mud
Careful not to smudge the mascara, applying eye liner and sigh in relief to have not sullied my face saving embarrassment
Giddy selecting sweets from the colourful array to buy with MY money; as much as I can!
Glancing at my seemingly large stomach in this dress I opt for a salad; as always (bland) but at least I'll be slimmer
Card trades, the politics of the playground, using trickery and bribery to get the best, feeling like a boss
Eyeing him with a secure hand in his, falling hard, to notice her gaze at him and subtly securing dominance of his heart.
The door bell rings and there stands the gang ready with bikes and water guns to surrender ourselves to the sunny day
The Suns out and the lighting is absolutely perfect for a selfie so with a stretched grin I snap, Photoshop and Instagram
Toys R Us our haven and envious glances at those who could afford the best and most exquisite Bratz sets or card sets
The rare visits to the Apple Store are exciting even to just gaze at the new iPhone 5 and hold it awhile....
The joy oh the joy of reading time, together we sat and took turns, enjoying the sharing of a tale
With my phone in hand not a minute goes by that I don't check my Facebook page for notifications
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Lavender parted by blunt wind:
the unkempt morning hair
of a park's running path.
Pale-green grass crawls up everywhere
in tufts like a thousand lost toupées.
In spring
cars, northbound from San Diego,
packed with kids and camping tools
or slimmer businessmen,
get full view of it:
a transient glance
between La Jolla and Los Angeles,
a moment of flashing color amid asphalt miles.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
‘I was too young when I fell for God’, she said
‘I heard you’, I said, ‘I said I could hear you’.
The train was busy, far louder than usual,
and we sat together, fingers wound together. Rough cuticles.
What were we doing so young,
getting married before the eyes of our Son?
Twenty-two and not a thought for the future,
though maybe you’ll be slimmer and I’ll be cuter.
‘I know about you two and your motorbike miles’ I said,
her face turned around, tired. It was Dulux paint-chart red.
‘How did you? Did he? I am sorry’ she said,
‘Oh that’s okay, really it’s fine, not to worry'.
Tube train doors opened and I filed out in no line,
she followed behind, slow. Karma had taken her spine.
‘You could wait to hear my explanation’ she said, tired.
Across the tiled platform floor, I carried on uninspired.
‘It was a stupid weekend away, we took the scenic route. Are we okay?’
Full stop pupils and an open mouth comma, what else could she possibly say?
‘It’s only recent, not all that frequent’ she said,
‘Well who knew that Winter was the season of unfair treatment?’ I yelled.
Reached the escalators and walked out single into the fresh air,
turned left onto the street and went looking for the nearest bar.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
I saw a myth destroyed
Actually, I saw it demolished
Stomped on, crushed
and totally abolished
We've all heard that
you look slimmer in black
Nope...big, fat lie
One myth is taken back
I went to a funeral
And the myth died
and joined the corpse
where it lied
Short, dumpy women
looking like dried out asphalt,
with matching wedge heels
crying and wandering about
hair colour from bottles
dressed as lumps of coal
the black dress, it hid nothing
like that 13th stomach roll
little round faced women
crying little round faced tears
in hockey puck like dresses
they all went and bought at Sears
there were blondes and
there were red heads
flaming briquettes...all there
to bury a myth with the dead
some, and by some...I mean few
dressed in black...looked nice
but the myth that black is slimming
you can put that one on ice
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 7:12 PM UTC
I always feel different after a break up
Not in the ways you expect
But stronger in a sad way
In Survival Mode I feel prettier
I feel more capable and older and wiser
My hair falls nicer
I'm slimmer and taller
Survival Mode reminds me of flings past
Suppressed crushes
Surfacing above new earth
But the earth is made of bricks
And they keep getting stepped on
Until eventually
Love lost becomes the past
And the bricks break into pieces
And when I clean them up
The soil shows itself
And Survival Mode is on standby
And the heart will go back up
6 inches higher in my chest
Where it was before
And maybe I won't be as tall as I was in Survival Mode
But at least I knew myself in that time
To show perseverance and grace
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
It's another night alone in my bed.
Thoughts of you trapped in my head.
And despite knowing the truth, evident with blinding proof,
My pride won't let me not be the fool.
And I know that you're better off with another,
And I know my presence can hauntingly hover,
But this is all I know, as my act will surely show,
Just how I revel in the acting a fool.
If this is the role I'm cast to be,
I'll wear my crown with unbridled glee.
Never relenting, always presenting,
Playing your games like a fool.
Your name would echo in the hallway
My friends experts in the game you play.
But I refused to listen, as your smile would glisten,
A boy predestined to be the fool.
Fast forward the clock and look at us now,
Your rise to the top left them all asking how,
But here I remain, fighting for a level plain.
Permanently cast as your silly little fool.
And as we grow old and grey,
I'll finally have the proper words to say,
I'll tell you it all, my reckoning will call,
My dying breath as the fool.
I continue to hold to this slimmer of hope,
For it's the only way that I can truly cope,
With how you really don't care, a hollow heart with pretty hair.
But in the end I'm always the fool.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
Lemon tree very pretty
it was a summer night many years ago
woke, thought I heard the whimpering
of a baby, thought it was a dream,
Woke up again my wife was not there
by my side but in the garden where she
had made a hole under a lemon tree
She put what looked like a shoebox in
the hole filled it in and placed stones
on top of her buried secret. Next day she
didn't get up stayed in bed for days and
I looked after her but said nothing.
When she got up she looked slimmer
and took up jogging to stay slim.
The lemon tree grew too I got a man to
chop it down but left its root, she got
upset loved this tree and when unseen
wept. I used to long for her to tell me her
secret, but not now with the tree gone
I do not care to know.
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 3:42 AM UTC
INT. WILL'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Andrew walked inside of his best friend Will's house, carrying a six pack of Stella, and moved to the beer-pong table, where Lauren and Erica were playing with Daniel and Marcus. The girls turned to face Andrew and Erica mumbled something to Lauren. Lauren laughed and nodded. Andrew hoped she wasn't laughing at him, but when he saw her smiling at him, that was when he knew he would end up falling in love with her. Well maybe not in love with her, but he hoped he would at least get to know her. He took off his jacket and set it aside on the couch next to Will and Carrie. Will looked slimmer than usual, his arms skinny, and his clothes baggy on him. He didn't like seeing his friend look like a stick-figure, but he didn't really know how to approach the subject. Instead, he hugged him and felt Will's skin and bones, wondering how long could his friend go on like this.
ANDREW
Will, wanna get next game?
Will considered it for a moment and shook his head.
WILL
I would man, but I'm feeling pretty tired. Going to take a dab in a minute, you want one?
ANDREW
Ha, not tonight man, I got to drive back home after this.
Andrew turned around and caught Lauren staring at him. She looked away and shot the ping-pong ball into one of the red solo cups. All Andrew knew about Lauren was that she moved here from Florida. She was here for the summer, perhaps longer. She was good friends with Will's girlfriend Carrie, but Carrie had told him the other day over Facebook chat, that Lauren was talking to some guy named Peter back in Florida. Good for me, he thought. He wanted to be single for a while, but there was something uncanny about Lauren that drew him in closer to the pong table. She was wearing a black cardigan and a white blouse underneath with jean shorts and flats--typical NOVA **** but he sensed she was deeper than her appearance. She had blue eyes, blue as the sky in the current summer month of July.
ANDREW
Hey do you guys mind if I get next game?
Erica looked at Lauren. And she looked back at Erica and shrugged.
LAUREN
Are you good?
ANDREW
I can be.
Lauren considered him for a moment.
LAUREN
Great to hear. You and Erica are going to go against me and Daniel. Cool?
ANDREW
Yeah that's cool.
Andrew found a spot next to Erica and stood beside her, high-fiving her.
ERICA
Don't worry about Lauren, she's just super competitive.
ANDREW
Let's show them some competition then.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 7:44 PM UTC