"thinspo" poems
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
You say, "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”
but I say surely something
must taste nicer than the burning acid
being forced back up your throat.
Why not hug people instead of
toilet bowls? At least they’ll hug back.
Except Mia is your only friend now.
And her cousin, Ana, of course.
And I understand that you never
wanted to die, but this is a thousand ton truck
hurtling towards the edge of a cliff and
Ana took the wheel a long time ago.
There is no strength in this: in you, in a
fear of calories. Even your bones creak
as your muscles sigh with exhaustion -
for this, is not a war you're winning.
This is a battle with only one contender
and I will not be the one to disarm you.
That's your job and it always has been. I know
you only wanted to be beautiful
like all those stars in the magazines
you saved under a file titled ‘thinspo’
but the only stars you ever saw were in
your eyes from the dizziness
and to tell you the truth, you are not pretty.
For there is nothing “pretty”
about the layer of fuzz your body grew
to protect itself from the big bad wolf
when really, the only growl was coming
from inside your stomach.
Or how your little sister is afraid to touch,
let alone hug you, in fear of snapping you in two.
For there is no glamour in having to
remove clumps of hair out of the plughole
at least six times whilst having a shower,
just to let the water run down.
Or that one time you "accidentally”
took too many laxatives. Messy.
There is nothing admirable about the way
you sat shivering on your bed
at night instead of kissing boys,
or dancing, or eating ice cream.
There is nothing to be marvelled at
in dying.
This, is not a life to be lived.
God, this isn't even a life.
This is being a slave to your own body,
a walking zombie, a ghost stuck
between two sides.
You are not alive.
But it was all still worth it, right?
Slowly killing yourself from the inside out.
A small price to pay for perfection,
a bargain for a broken mirror;
for a half-written book
with 97 blank pages,
a camera
that only captures in black and white,
a clock
with frozen hands.
And most importantly, for a peace of mind
you never received.
No refunds.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 11:59 AM UTC
"Everyone wants to be a little anorexic" she says
"You know, like, in a glamorous way, like fashion friendly anorexic"
I bite my cheek and nod, pretend to agree
All I can think of is waking up to stars dancing on the ceiling
Pale skin with bruises of unknown origins
And battered feet on and off the scale
Almonds in Ziploc baggies
Bite marks on fingers
Hair down the drain
Measuring crunches by the marks they leave on your spine
And battered feet on and off the scale
Enough water to turn organs into boats
Eating an apple with a fork and knife
Desperate hands grasping for ribs
And battered feet on and off the scale
Standing and the world going dark
Coughing around shots of apple cider vinegar
Carrying an emergency rice cake for weak spells
And battered feet on and off the scale
Enough green tea to drown organs
Sugar free gum to mask the smell of decaying organs
Whatever nail polish covers yellow and purple
And battered feet on and off the scale
How many calories are in toothpaste
Thinspo blogs
Pillows squeezed between thighs
And battered feet on and off the scale
Is today the day my heart gives out
Waking every day in a new body
Fingers clasped around wrists
And battered feet on and off the scale
Notebooks filled with numbers
Purple crescents under eyes
Fingers clasped around forearms
And battered feet on and off the scale
Elbows knocking into hipbones
Being scared of your own reflection
Lies to get out of dinner
And battered feet on and off the scale
The stench of *****
Oxygen that tastes of Splenda
Fingers clasped around biceps
And bleeding feet on and off the scale
If this is your idea of glamour
Then you can have it
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 12:48 PM UTC
My sick twisted gaze
On the women and the men
Thigh gaps, finger bones, ribs.
Jan 24, 2023
Jan 24, 2023 at 10:18 AM UTC
i am cold in a winter that isn't
so much like winter
i am frozen in the idea of magazines
thinspo
and whatever the opposite of that is
it is still encouraging
i want a ballerina body
i want to surround myself in water and green tea
avocados
i want to be bendy
well, bendier
i want collar bones to push out
ribcage to jut out
thin arms
thin waist
i am tired of stretchmarks and sadness
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 10:49 AM UTC
"What a ****
You're a waste of space
Selfish brat
No one will ever like you
Ugly ******
Words escalated after I said
"I'm a bit cold"
in 30 degree weather
Wearing a thin long sleeve..
Words from my own mother
I would like for her to repeat those phrases after she's
seen me throwing up every "snack" I've eaten in 3 days
Have her watch me cry and shake in the bathtub while slitting my wrists because a blade hurts way less than her words
Have her watch me spend hours looking at thinspo and
"how to be perfect" websites for self expectance because she's torn me down too far
I want her to watch me talk to the people at school because she sees me as the hammer I smash my ribs against with; but truly, I am gentle
I am petrified to raise my hand in class because I am so scared to mess myself up... Mommy said it was wrong to mistake.
I will cry in a bathroom stall for hours if a girl DARE tell me she thinks she doesn't look good enough for the world today because that's how I feel with reminders every hour
But,
Maybe I am selfish
Selfish to keep myself away from human engagements for so long
But mommy says it's for the better
Better if I stay away
The words I've learned to trust so much
It's the words that stab me over and over
Those words are the reason I cannot accept a compliment or state my thoughts aloud
Feeling far worse than suicide.
Self harming
Burning
Carving
Words hurt more
Her words hurt most
And now mommy might know
Why there is a tear stained note waiting for her in her bedroom tonight
And she might feel just a bit of pain
As I did everyday
Goodbye mom, I thought I loved you.
Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
There are pieces of writing out in the world
That say that you should start starving yourself
Or you should start working hard
To hate your "fat" body, by everyone else's definition.
I've read these types of inspirational pieces.
They make me want to stop eating
And they make me want to purge
And they make me hate my body like I always have.
They say that day one, this won't be a battle.
I will be skinny and beautiful and gloriously...
Bony, emaciated, hungry, angry, lonely, cold...
But pretty.
"Day one starts today" they say.
"Imagine day 30, when all the boys whistle.
Day 52 of people asking if you lost weight
Day 69 of being someone else thinspo
Day 100 of being gorgeous."
I've never wanted to be skinny.
At one point, I wanted to starve and
Be just like that,
But I came to the point where I decided
I was sad enough without another disease
On my stomach and in my head.
There are too many scars on my body
And I've tried so hard to stop
Putting more on my skin bag,
But I find it hard, so I turn to these
Pro-eating disorder inspirational pieces.
And I change the words.
Day one starts today.
Imagine day 10 and not breaking
Even though you really want to.
Imagine day 21 when you reach
Six months with that special girl
And you are still clean.
Imagine day 30 when you can tell
Her that you are a month clean again.
Imagine day 43 of smooth skin.
Imagine day 100 of smiling
Because you aren't killing yourself.
Imagine day 331 and reaching
The two year mark from when
You started and now you are done
With all of the torture.
Imagine day 365
When you can look in
The mirror and say,
"I made it a year."
Imagine day 730
When you can say,
"I made it two years."
Imagine your wedding day
When you can say,
"I made it out and I wouldn't
Be who I am
With out you."
Remember, Jess:
You. Are. Worth. Fighting. For.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
***** inspo and thinspo
and online shopping
***** book clubs
and parties
cleaning and mopping
***** whining
and dining
lying and stalking
***** radio hosts
and all their
nonstop talking
***** everything
that ever made me sad
when i’m starving so much
that i think ive gone mad
start a fight cause i’m hungry
it’ll end when i’m not
ask- is this life worth living?
cause it’s all that i got
Aug 8, 2019
Aug 8, 2019 at 11:14 PM UTC
Thinspo isn’t supposed to enter real life
A girl in my classes made my appetite drop
Every time I saw her, though I never said
Those were my problems, not hers
But maybe they were hers, but I never knew
How to talk to someone like that
Unless it was necessary, but it never was
Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 3:29 PM UTC
Black coffee.
Black coffee with 0 calorie sweetener.
Green tea.
Naked rice.
Yes, naked.
Or in other words deprived of every bit of nutrients.
Pepsi Max.
Pepsi Max cherry.
Chemicals. But not calories.
Heaven forbid you'd drink calories!
Soup.
Spring Vegetable Soup.
But not vegetable soup.
Not tomato soup.
They're 50 calories more at least!
ONLY spring vegetable soup.
Apple.
Only one.
That's a whole meal.
10,000 steps.
At least 10,000 steps.
What are you, lazy?
If you're not walking every second of the day then you must be.
Size 0.
Even if you're not
Buy all clothes in size 0.
You can't wear pretty clothes until you've lost that weight.
Lies.
No, you can't be honest.
How attention-seeking can you get!
Tumblr.
Tumblr is the Bible.
But only the thinspo community.
The rest is irrelevant.
If you ignore all my advice and eat
make sure you do it slowly.
One small bite every 5 minutes.
And don't you dare distract yourself while eating
I'm not going to let you for another 24 hours so you'd better savour every moment.
Craving more food?
Drink some water and get a grip.
Thinking about giving up?
Watch me make you feel the worst you've ever felt.
Try me.
Envelopes.
Sellotape them.
You never know how many calories are in the seal.
Don't. Trust. Anything.
The package says that 100g of grapes is 70 calories?
Call it 400 just to be safe.
You read an article about the dangers of restriction?
Don't believe everything you read.
Believe me.
I'm your best friend.
May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 1:44 PM UTC