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An apple a day to keep me healthy you say, Just make sure its organic, And have two a day. You only said one,
Back, belly, thighs, wrists. Which path do I start with? I take my red tape and wrap my arm up. Then my legs, I’m about to throw up.
to turn back
A little girl looks in the mirror one day And wishes her reflection would just go away Echoes of torment resound in her ears As her eyes fill to the brim with tears
I grew up being told I was beautiful. Typical white beauty. "Oh, you better watch out when you're older, the boys will be breaking down the door." I grew up thinking I was beautiful,
Frail bodyTiny bonesFleshlessIs ultimate. Start small,Skip lunches2 meals a dayIs enough. Self controlBreakfast uselessIf dinnerIs inevitable.
Manipulated. Protective, Terrified, Confused. Emotional Abuse.
Had a foreboding stranger preemptively prophesied to my girl-self – Of the past two years I endured, with the hollowed bones of a bird Readily acquiescent to the beguiling caress of death
From the outside my childhood looks plain. I did soccer and cheer, doodled in class, and whispered promises of forever to elemtary school friends. No one wouldve noticed the pain I carried with me.
This white porcelain bowl I’m kneeling over it The cold rim I grip with my fingers. I am white knuckled Tears are running down my face,
this letter is me saying goodbye. this letter is everything i couldn't say when you were in my room that night when i asked you to stop to leave me alone and you persisted in touching me
I wake up each day, a new dawn, a new beginning, filled with new possibilities letting yesterday's failures fade and yet they stick to me like the sap from a tree.
The mirror cries long tears to the bus station Her feet draw their mottled shapes on the Pavement It is wet and cold. In my mouth, there lies elegant blood
Sometimes I think I look back to middle school in health class we did a project where we researched a mental illness or something like that I researched anorexia and I snap back to now
Hazel eyes staring back through the thin glass of her reflection as she glances at her features; knotty brown hair curling at the ends, creating false little smiles framing her cheeks, listless eyes finding every imperfection and criticizing every
by Ariel Douglas (18 November 2014) I knew I was lost when my life spiraled out of control. I knew I was lost when I no longer wanted to live.
just words written down nothing more nothing less until they were words about bodies respect food fuel no longer words but a path to recovery
Puppet Trigger warning: rape, eating disorder, mental illness, self-harm I have always been your doll You’ve always just sat there and watched me fall
Speak not of my bloodied chest, but pray instead for some forgotten justice ! Fair Lady Wind, your presence is as welcome as the flow of my precious life-blood. I will evermore search of your beauteous
A jumbled, hurt feeling A word, a sentence Hope to bring healing A heart filled with repentance You bring me relief
When I was 11, I started starving myself When I was 13, I started cutting myself When I was 15, I kissed a boy who had a girlfriend When I was 16, I made a lot of mistakes When I was 16, I decided I needed to change
I have always looked like this.
obsessed. my dwindling eating habits started in an effort to punish myself, hurt myself. the meals dropped and dropped; three meals a day, two, one. an apple. an orange.
You lay on your floor wating waiting waiting for your phone to charge It's dark she's asleep at the foot of the bed be quiet I hang my hands over the edge of the bed our fingers graze
My Beloved Mia, Blessed we felt when we found you, in the abyss of our stars Our wish came true, so we thought. Nonetheless, Destruction of life is what you are.
Dear Beautiful: From then until now Your scars still show Your tears are dried and when people speak it hurts. Dear Beautiful: You think you are so unnatractive
I have never been to great at math. Numbers looks like hieroglyphics that have yet to be tanslated into english. Its symbols look like my 5th grade art portfolio scribbles, but yet
It's going to be okay,It's going to be alright.Keep remembering to hold on tight.
ravenous creature feeding on scraps and whispers tired of waiting no longer sitting patiently or silently
Think a thought and let it simmer Go for a walk in the woods and get wonderfully lost Take a blow to the head and taste the liquor Jump on a plane and forget the cost Cut the gluten and end up thinner
They sit with stomachs rumbling and talk about how they eat, They sit with smiling faces and cry under their sheets, They sit with silent voices and scream inside their heads, They sit with normal people And wonder how, oh how? They sit and stand,
She can no longer eat. This is day three without food. What’s the point? People eat to survive, but she doesn't want to survive, anymore.
hey, eighteen is a weird transitional phase youre naive to think you know what you want but too young to realize you dont know anything. youre going to travel halfway across the country
Dear Alisha, There's so much that I could tell you, so much that I could say. So much that I could wish for, so much that I could think of every day.
Water. Low-calorie, no-calorie, sugar-free and…water. When i only ate a bite of my lunch and threw the rest away. You didnt notice.
Why do I think that I can't do things How am I my own least biggest fan I used to think that I could do anything I used to believe I could hold the world in my hand
Today I am trapped in echoing halls filled with the smokey darkness. Unable to see what good lies await. I can't hear anything besides the calling the voices of creatures and monsters
Loast at sea, thats what I am. A little spec surrounded by swirling water, barely staying afloat in this storm. I call out and there is no answer as sharks circle about my capsizing raft.
She can always see her princess-perfect heart shaped face in the window Doe eyes just big enough to weigh down the organ she pretends is still her heart
Let me tell you a story, And allow me some of your time, As well as some of your heart. Let me tell you a story about a girl named Snow White, A girl traditionally known for her beauty, Her purity,
bus number 32 takes you to bus number 19 which takes you to your house. bus number 17 doesn't exist, but maybe that's why you know it'll take you home.
Let's be real,I do not feel-Good after any meal. My stomach is steel-My lips concealed,My weakness unkeeled,But I cannot deal-
Too fullToo empty,I'm all dried up,these bones feel heavy I can't breathe,I can't think,I can't even talk,I don't know what's come over me I'm a slave to a vice,it's killing me,I often think
She starves herself to only look as skinny as the girl standing next to her, She forces herself to binge and purge and binge and purge, a vicious cycle that not only eats away at her body,
Dear Ana, it's me a friend The one you almost pushed to the very end Dear Ana my knuckles still scarred Ana, why? Why have you come back to revisit me Ana don't make me plead.
All you’ve had to eat for the past 2 days are your own fingernails Skinny girls hip bone wishes You want to be skinny Skinny means pretty Skinny means wanted Skinny means loved Skinny is only a fantasy for you, hoping, praying to lose that 20 poun
Can’t see it, can’t have it, can’t taste it, Or you will surpass your limit. Don’t let your body throw a fit. In the end, you know that it’s worth it.
I am courageous and hopefulI wonder if I will ever truly recoverI hear my ED and OCD thoughtsI see a possible future without recovery and that scares meI want recovery and freedomI am courageous and hopeful
My skin is wrong It's a baggy jumpsuit Deep sea diving gear A huge space suit Heavy Big And loose It's not me
”im not hungry” , says the stomachthe stretch of the esophagus is in yoga practice with my stomach lininginstead of dining there is immense thirstoften for fine winewhich feels like kisses past my tonsils
There are feathers here. Light, beautiful, no one can Trust them, they can betray You, but they're beautiful. There is cold here. Excuses wrapped in Coats that will never
I use to have a best friend. She was tall and extremely thin. When I look in the mirror, I sometimes see her again. Even though she was thin, She still wasn't comfortable in her bony skin
Let me eat more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more
I became a poet when I was born I became an artist when I died Putting ink to the paper helped me feel what was inside As a babe I saw everything around me I'd lose sleep so as not to miss a thing
You may Shut me up Break my will, Imprison me, just because you disagree with my beliefs.
Tell her that the way her bones stick out from her body is sexy Explain to her that you don’t like “big girls” Tell her that the gap in her thighs
Hate never silenced her wordsAnd compliments never brought about changeAll she ever did was binge and purgeBut her mind remained tainted and strange
most mornings, we rise the sun filling the sky, sanguineness in our minds. though our hopes may be high, anticipations soon shatter our proclamations.
I try to numb the pain. The pain of everything and of nothing. The pain that I cannot put into words And the pain I try so hard to control The pain that somehow always seems to find its way out
Sitting in the car attached to the cart while grocery shopping with your mother Being carried from the couch to your bed by your father after you've accidently fallen asleep watching The Little Mermaid again
How could anyone love her? A single moment in time, her head is tilted back in laughter Used to disguise the moments later where the tears are from something more fragile.
someone asks me how we survive day by day, night by night? i want to tell them that we don’t but the words taste like falsehoods on my lips because the truth is, we do survive. but we do not do it alone.
Yeah, I’m skinny what’s it to you? No, I’m not anorexic. No, I’m not bulimic either. No, I am not just skin and bones. I have a high metabolism, and I have a hollow leg that runs in the family.
I fear that I am a mistake a mistake of God.. and one day He'll realize it, then I'll disappear. No one will notice, no one will care, some may even be relieved..
Can I swallow some pills to help me swallow the pain? Give me a blade s I can slice away. Teach me to hold things in and I will teach you to deposit small wieghts of trickery into your pockets.
You look in the mirror, you poke and pinch, turn to the side, suck in, wish you could lose just one more inch. You swear up and down you've already eaten, by "skinny thoughts," you already feel beaten.
It’s time for a change It’s time to put an end to the stigma that surrounds mental illnesses It’s time to stop shaming those with mental health problems
ideal: a person or thing regarded as perfect.
You're no ordinary girl, you are an extrodinary boy. You're special because you're different. Don't be afraid to make mistakes. They are each common errors.
I found the tears of your abandoned soul while searching for the life of mine. And no, dear, some things can’t stop time, But if I could break all of my pocket watches, Maybe the boxes that split you would disappear.
Sharp, angled cheekbones, like mountain tops. Silhouetted against the azure of your hair. Jutting collarbones, filled with shadows-- of the past? Of your mind? Prominent ribs,
Who am I? I just don't know, There are whispers, Telling me not to look in the mirror, That I am too big, I might explode. There are whispers, Calling me disgusting, Ugly,
You look delicious. That's your skill. You just sit there, waiting, torturing. You smell fascinating. Oh, so fascinating. I want all of you, all of you. Can you not feel how much I long for you, how much I need you in me? Can you not?
Slanted Like The Leaning Tower Of Pisa I. Am. Slanted. Though I Stand Enchanted By This Hungry Image Of Beauty, That Is About To Crumble, Tumble ,To The Ground, Only To Be Found In One Giant Mess.
It started with a word. Just one little tiny word. Fat. It had been a joke, she had been teasing. But still. Were my favorite jeans getting a little too snug?