Poems about eating disorders

Into the world.

This girl looses herself.
She's loosing weight as well.
Tightly she holds on to her will,
she doesn't dare to tell.

She has a heavy mind,
filled with gems and pearls from the sea
but looses brain fat to get light-headed.
Not many will fertilise heavenly seed.

She needs a heart's endlessness in the world
to fulfil herself
and the will to fill the world with treasures
from her wishing well.

Why do some say she should be bigger
when they no room have to feel what's in her?
It's not that she mind eating. It's words unkind she mind.

She wants to show her bones
so it's obvious to see where her boundaries are.
It is hard for others to accept them, though
when they hit her hips so sharply.

Why don't anybody ask what's eating her
instead of complaining until she's downy
that she's skinny and needs a cure?

The purpose of the hunger strike fails
when the pale corpse falls before anybody cares
to pull up her chin, instead of pushing her to sin.

It is easy to support her, really,
because she carries the cross.
If there is an open heart she need not shout
with her eyes, wide, the storm inside.

¤

I don't want to be superfluous like fat.

That is why I hate it so much.

¤

Why don't you interact with me?

I'll give you some space.

Take away some fat so you can fit in 

right under my skin.

¤

Dad, how can I dare to eat

when you make fun of everybody?

Mum, how can I eat

with your head over my plate?

I'm not afraid of food, but the contempt

you feed me with, mum

and the joke you see with me, dad.

The bitter one munch on her heart, mum

and the one who make a fool of others are a fool, dad.

You both and I have no control over our tongues
and someone has to weigh up for that.

Weigh every bit thoroughly.

¤

I am the spoon you eat with

My skeleton is a handle with hips upon.
My mum crushed my ribs between her teeth
and dad pulled my arms out when he left
because I couldn't let go of him.

Men want to slurp the soup under my navel.
I expect someone will come and take me,
but what is left doesn't crush and I am hard to bend.

¤

ED is death,
not breathing down your neck,
but right at you with black, toxic breath
that surrounds, fills and stays with you
so you can't see clearly
and everything seems scary.

You only hear negativity from ED.
I wish I could be like a little faerie
because life is dreary,
or a saint at service full time selflessly
who get enough energy from Sundays hostie.

¤

The times I starved most severely
was when the people around me
didn't care, as if I was air.

¤

Frozen

The girl with anorexia may look cool

in her clothes. In fact she is freezing

while she's covered in wool.

Sunny friends must stay away

from a heart and mind that's frozen

into the same routine every day.

No crack let the sun through the guard

cause there's no room for melted ice

in a ground that hard.

¤

How can she eat
while someone's eating her?

Do you see now why she can't sit still, 

but have to flee from her enemy?

¤

After the devil left my womb
I feel like the devil's child.

No longer suppressing sexuality
or the volum of my voice and laughter
that bothered mum intensely.

I am the opposite now: Sensual, sexual 
and I laugh instead of cry, instead of asking why.

I am the immature me finally, free.
This is where I have longed to be.

Anorexia stopped me from developing, maybe.
I feel like 12 again, but this time without anxiety.

¤

I found my heart has also room for me.
I will no longer hide 

behind a "skinny body" identity
or under thick clothes too baggy.

I can be a good person finally
because in a heart with love 

there's no room for fear or hostility.

If I gain weight or not the heart doesn't care.

¤

When anorexia had got a hold of me

I was in a prison cell 

where the only ideals I could see 

was the ones it was showing me 

and under my recovery

the disease hung on like an iron ball.

¤

I am in a large elevator shaped like a storehouse

with dark grey, damp and rough walls.

It is far down so if I look up I see no end to it.

I can't see if it is a roof or a sky up there.

The elevator goes further and further down

and I neither know how to stop it nor get it up again.

I haven't looked for buttons. I avoid the walls,

but it isn't me who is in charge of it.

Suddenly the floor goes down.

It is empty except some cardboard boxes in a corner.

It is utensils to eat with, but I don't care about the content

because I am just waiting in this room 

until I can come to heaven up there.

¤

You call me a concentration camp inmate, 

hoping I will gain some weight,

but you are my captor, snake

who consume me with your corrosive spit

from your large sizzling bitter pit.

¤

Deprivation

I want to be skinny to be free, 

forget the world in euphoria,

but I can't omit the needs of my body 

and as I hold it in my grip

I imprison myself in the world 

I try to overcome.

¤

She denies herself the slightest hint 

of food and life expression.

If only a fold of skin is detected 

it needs to tighten up.

¤

I think I am strong when I starve on,
but am driven by fear. 

I think I get meeker, but get harder,
rigid and frigid.

I cry from my core

and before I'm satisfied I die.

¤

I want to throw my whole body up

in the toilet.

¤

No Body

Your view is important to me
so I melt away when you see me as nobody.

I try to make you aware of your scary view
by appearing as no body.
Cause how can I have matter
when my view don't matter to you?

If you don't see my point then
I hope my bones get edgy enough to make a hole
through the wall you have put up towards me.

¤

I feel divided in two;
a mind with no body to rest upon,
and a body that feels very much alone.

¤

When no one fills my heart
the whole body is empty.
Then what's the point of having one?

So I starve instead
of killing myself.
Hoping love will catch me
before I fall in the grave.

¤

I never eat until I'm full.

I am afraid I will explode

because I am a ticking bomb.

¤

Only an anorexic girl like me

would worry about coming to heaven

with too little energy

to serve God as much as is expected.

¤

Anorexia recovery is like moving to a new place

and breathing in a lot of oxygen 

after spending a long time unwilling to breathe 

in a poisonous environment.

¤

Now that I'm thin

can you see what's wrong

under my skin?

¤

As I hold the body in my grip

I capture myself

in the world I want to overcome.