
ED AlphabetA is for anxiety, which you will have everydayED Alphabet7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
whenever you see a girl who may be skinnier in some way.
And all the bones of your skeleton you see revealing
is B. What's scary is you find it appealing!
While you wittle your waist down to a size 23,
your control has been stolen (which is obviously C).
D is dying and you never think of that,
just as you can't see how you're not actually fat.
E, emaciation, eating, and extreme exercise
is all to get rid of your non-existant thighs.
Food, your enemy, is to be avoided with fear,
another F word, along with fasting, my dear.
G is the guilt you will carry all day and all night,
unaware

HollywoodWhen the sun scorches my skin into a desert,Hollywood7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dusty hills like this dusty town,
I want to go to Hollywood.
My hands are too small in this valley,
they're too small to move mountains and grab clouds.
In Hollywood, lit up by exploded suns,
in Hollywood, my hands might fit in a dead movie star's prints.
I can't look at the sky anymore without squinting,
crow's feet slowly feathering out from my eyes;
the sun dried my tears into premature wrinkles.
Hollywood is a taste of Evian water
and lunch break plastic surgery, something fake enough to taste sweet in my mouth.
My jeans feel itchy, worker skin that needs to be shed,
replaced by an

Split ConflictThe lighthouse shies between rocks,Split Conflict8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
hiding its beacon in crevices I cannot slip my hand into.
Shuddering, as always,
with the promises unkept
of just a little further, just one more inch.
It won't absolve, it'll only
splatter another drop, wasting on thirsty rocks.
And I have never had my fill.
Battling, she tries
to ache the mechanics inside my body.
The last she spoke, the wind wanted blood
and now whispers for my skin,
to smooth away the goosebumps
and tear out any prickle of hair.
Her voice is drenched with sea salt
as she rolls another breath,
sweeping back bangs and the hood of my jacket.
I spoke once, if only
I had wo

Ana PoemI love hip bones and rib bones,Ana Poem8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Collar bones and skin tones,
Tight clothes that're low cut;
Show your bones like a weightless slut.
Protuding out and concaved in,
Fight the food and you can win.
Sexy skin with pink scarred wrists,
I hate how much I'm wanting this.
Fat to ashes, bones to dust;
Falling, fading, love and lust.
Something I'm not, I have to be,
Because only then can I be me.

Processes of PurityWhen Jeremy and IProcesses of Purity8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Walk down Westmoor in
February, I know the
Nasturtium leaves have
Collected rain water in the
Center of their green veined
Hearts. The glass beads have
Gathered large and clear and the
Cavities of our chests lay
Open and convex. Willing we are, for the
Desert there knows no quench.
Green will purify the acid run-off
As it puddles within us. Breathing
Droplets will filter through the
Flimsy cheesecloth and
Strike the sand in silence. Perhaps
Light will transfigure each into
Bits of bread—flaked, illumined,
Descending. But the black writhing
Wire trees below will refuse to be
Dampened or fed, screa

Thoughtlessly Heavyhanded...Thoughtlessly Heavyhanded...8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Guitar string hands are groping, pleading,
for pale peach lingering. And ignoring,
braving this hiss of sharp metal.
To unfold like a seared meat book,
dropped in a disgusted lap.
Shadow puppet hands, hands of waving
eucalyptus leaves, they dance in the
flourescent light.
Shadow flitting behind violin light beams to
doubtfully land upon outstretched languid legs.
Toenails sigh minty longing
before collapsing in a breath.
Slow piano triggered stroke of a blink, wispy
warbelling to graze my cheek, leaving but blue.
Swirl my thoughts into chocolate pudding, thickly
coating my brain.
Cigarette smoke never ran up and a

SummerWebbed skin stretchesSummer6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a pale oddity
across my spread toes.
Push
against the hanging heat
low, sea-level lurking,
cocooning my unfolded
body.
drops of coolness, beads
sliding down my copper-sun
skin.
Evaporate not-
absorb.
water filled balloon, bobbing
lazily, a frog's translucent
egg, tinged with the promise of
pink.
Heat pulls it down, pinions me
to the concrete sidewalks
always scraping
my grass-stained knees.

Ana's Job ApplicationDear Madam,Ana's Job Application6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
When I heard you were looking for a diet coach, a way to slim down, I knew this was a job for me. I'm definitely well-qualified for it.
My name is Anorexia Nervosa, but my friends call me Ana. I don't like to brag, but I'm quite famous actually. I'm on the news a lot, and I even have a fan club. You can find them on pro-Ana websites everywhere. They even call me a way of life. They can't live without me, they say. Honestly, I'm flattered.
If you're feeling worthless and overweight, you have a right to-- you are. But I wouldn't worry if I were you. I've worked with lots of people like you before, and I've made them what

Orange.Orange.8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bitter love juices from pungent oranges
drip down to my fingers, stinging my bitten nails
and I always smile, seedily,
begging to be unpeeled.
Would you run your calloused hands
over my thick, ridged skin and rip the casing
from my flesh,
ready to sink your teeth in
deep.
And tear out all my andrenaline glands
one by one, letting them pop between your teeth.
Sunbeams coat your tongue,
making everything sticky
and acidic.
You'll lick your fingers
slowly,
but you'll never lick that stain away.

SpunSpun8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Apathetic unicorns drill lies up my nose,
and I gasp, feeling hot tears underneath my thick eyelids --
the first for months.
I feel my heartbeats crystallize,
scraping away at blood vessels and nerve endings.
who am i who am i who am i
The mirror reflects a thousand fragmented photocopies
with crumpled black and white shoulders,
an echo of iron underneath noses like red nailpolish,
dripping from the brush.
Doll7 years ago in Surreal
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AddictionAddiction8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Smelly hair and stinking clothes,
Yellow fingers i try to hide,
Warning labels, so God knows,
What it looks like in my insides,
I've given up three times this week,
But give me one last drag,
Of cancer sticks, of cigarettes,
I need another fag!
And it's true just what the addict says,
"Son please don't touch that stuff,
'Cos' one is far too many, lad
And two is not enough."
In the bar now every day,
Every chance I can,
The landlord and the bartender,
Amongst my biggest fans,
I've given up three times this week,
But barmen what dew think,
Beer, lager, cider mate,
I need another drink!
And it's true just what the addict says

My Anorexic SuperstarYour anorexic superstar,My Anorexic Superstar10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She bends to fit your mold,
Giving up all that shes longed for,
Bones and tears,
The burning cold.
Falling at the voice,
Instead she grasps for one last touch,
Broken inside,
Sucked it dry,
Cries at what she needs so much.
\"Your hand,\"
She screams,
\"I need it,
To pull me up from fate.\"
\"Too bad,\"
You laugh and run away,
With anorexic hate.
Can anyone hear me?6 years ago in Conceptual
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The Plastic WorldPlastic faces in all the familiar placesThe Plastic World7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Because you weren't born with beauty
You create it
With sticks and stones you break your bones
so you can replace them with silicone
what other ways can you change your life
in California, its money and surgical knifes
should you choose your fathers genetics
or his money for your new synthetics?
uplift this and tuck that in
throw your body into a trash bin
those cigarettes you smoke to look classy
have scarred your skin
go inject some more poison in
you can't face that time will take its toll
but you can erase those ugly molls
too lazy to exercise
you get a doctor to suck your thighs

Secret LullabyShe looks at herself in disgustSecret Lullaby8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Her eyes watering with tears
Her mouth filled with dust
Dust of awful, useless words of fears
The image in front of her
The cries of despair
Everything to her is like a blur
Her heart, her mind is not all there
She cries in vain
The losses, the stomachaches
No pain, no gain
Her eyes wide-awake
Years pass by
She still tries and tries
The pains like a secret lullaby
While she slowly closes her eyes.

HalfThese apron stringsHalf4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
tied around my wrists
are stained, burned, frayed:
I am not the first.
"I will not make those mistakes,"
I had said,
"I am not that
stupid."
The first mistake of many.
We are, all of us,
bruised
by our naivety,
destroyed by our
arrogance.
Our minds were churches once,
we would sit,
complete in ourselves.
Now, all that's left:
a statue,
crumbling under graffitti,
spat on.
And we allowed it.
Propaganda Project 26 years ago in Expressive
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Ice Dancer7 years ago in Open Format
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SkeletonSkeleton7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I knew a pretty girl
Who couldn’t see her own face,
the magnitude of her grace,
or, perhaps she didn’t want to,
But the boys did.
I knew a pretty girl
Who had a mirror that lied.
It choked and it spat out
just what she despised:
The noise.
The screech.
The howl
of intolerable imperfection.
Not worthy of love,
She had no face.
The boys saw that, too.
The emptiness of her eyes
simply reflected the lips that
grasped her neck.
The anonymous hands
at her hips
Drove her train of thought to a wreck.
Derailed.
I knew a pretty girl
Who drank poison
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It Was EverythingWe spent our days,It Was Everything4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
our nights,
our everything together, talking.
There was so much to discuss, so much to plan,
even six hours were not long enough.
"This is important," I'd say or
you'd say (we shared a mind, it seemed like),
"This is life-altering."
Come back to me,
come back to me.