Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
aubrey Dec 2022
i never thought id be
here
happier
recovered
healthier
there are still days when i
reconsider
become fearful
make mistakes
but i promised myself
id never go back
to then.
recovery is hard but forever worth it
arin Nov 2022
no longer a poet
or a muse / simply
an inoperable tumor
/party tattoos and
crushed cigarettes
one/ done / fast /repeat
i'm cold and tired
#ed
Caosín Sep 2022
DIY
Crafty, they say, He's getting crafty
crafty with my lies and my made-up meals
crafty with my sound-blocking tactics
crafty with hiding the burning lines of white and red.
Baking, they say, He's getting into baking
baking my binges
baking my restriction
baking my omad
baking my sad-looking low-cal low-fat low-sugar low-carb high-protein
'meal'.
Crochet, they say, He's getting into crochet
crocheting ankle warmers to make my legs look skinny
half-finger gloves in an attempt to curb the permafrost that has begun to
knit itself around my bones.
Healthy, they say, He's getting healthy
as i workout until i faint
and do sit-ups until i have bruises on my spine.
fruit and veg and vitamins take priority
and suddenly i have taken an interest in running.
little rant about my ed
- Patroclus
Caosín Sep 2022
ana
they can't see, they can't see
that it coats my bones, bulges against my skin;
those little yellow bubbles
that make me want to give in.
birdy Jul 2022
Each pound gained
my stake in 'pretty' waned
in societies tiny frame
of what's pretty
and what is shamed.
Sometimes I convince myself my worth is based on the scale, but if I lost twenty pounds that would not make me twenty pounds 'prettier', and appearance does not define you.
Anne Mar 2022
I miss the beautiful sadness.
The tears tasted like cream,
Fears turned me pale.
A quiet sadness.

I was so pretty,
Smaller every second,
Floating away in tenderness.
A whisper,
Then silence.
What more could I ask for?

And now I’m more.
Taking up more space,
Filling more holes.
I’m too much.

Now this..
ugly sadness.
One where I grow
instead of shrink.
My face is pinker,
My stomach splits at the seems,
tears taste like *****.

If I go,
It will not be a whimper,
But a scream.
Rawly honest,
and rancid.

Still,
I think I’d rather be
a beautiful lie.
giovanna Jan 2022
Em frente do espelho
Em um surto de lucidez, penso
O que foi que eu fiz com meu corpo?
Ele era tão saudável
Mas eu não me amava antes
E também não me amo agora

Eu lembro de desejar a todo custo
“Emagrecer até morrer”
E é essa frase que corre em minha mente
Quando eu sinto minha visão escurecer

Eu lentamente estou morrendo

Em frente ao espelho, me pergunto
Se era essa a minha vontade
então por que eu estou tão assustada?
Gabrielle Jan 2022
it’s 2pm PST
my PTSD is eating me
ring finger on control key
my poor and lonely body
Next page