1993: An Eating Disorders Poem

1993

 Has it been that long?

The miles I ran then,

 to burn off the

 smidgen of cookie that I

 failed to purge back up.

The hammer that rested

against my heart

heavier by the hour

as I climbed through life.

The salt and vitamins

and fluids my body lost

12 times a day.

The grief I lacked the

courage to stare down.

The humiliation

and relief,

when finally caught

in the act.

The help I got

and didn't know I deserved.

The work and sweetness of life.

By: Dana Esau

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Bad Apple: Eating Disorders Poetry

Warning: Poem may be triggering

Bad Apple

 

This poem is not about how I beat anorexia.

I wish I could write that poem

I always liked clean breaks and happy endings

But this is not a happy ending.

This is real.

 

I’ve done what I can

keeping up appearances

The good girl

The smart one

I’ve done a damn good job, don’t you think?

And I know you want your little girl back

And I wish I could give you that too.

 

But I am not a bad apple

You can’t cut out the rotten bits

This is not burnt toast

You can’t scrape this off

Or hide it with butter

Or throw it away and make a new slice

This is not a cherry pit

You can’t just eat around it

There are no devils or angels fighting on my shoulders

I am the devil

I’m the angel too.

 

All I can do is swallow this bad apple whole

Savor it bite by mushy brown bite

And maybe one day I’ll be just like I used to be

And maybe I won’t

So do you want a taste or not?

 

by: Anonymous 

 

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Eating Disorders Poetry: Untitled

I lie.
I lie about what I’m doing, where I’m going, and what I just ate.

I steal.
I steal food when I can’t starve myself any longer, the scale that I’m prohibited to use, and my mom’s trust, which she thinks is so strong.

I hide.
I hide my discoloring nails, my dirty deeds, and my shrinking body.

I believe.
I believe that I’m ugly, that I’m not skinny enough, and that everyone hates me.

I regret.
I regret that I’ve betrayed the ones who love me the most, that I’ve harmed my body in ways unimaginable, and that I’ve stopped caring about the most important things in life.

I’m trying.
I’m trying to get better, to resist temptation, and to learn to love myself. 

by:Jasmine Pickering

 
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picsource:http://www.flickr.com/photos/mediafury/4055659192/in/photostream/